My Story
by Edgestoothfairy
Summary: This will be a light romance story involving a long lost daughter of everyone's favourite Chairman and a certain Superstar. Can't give all the details away, eh? Please feel free to comment...- Now classified as a Jericho X OC story :
1. Chapter 1

"They say that blood is thicker than water. Maybe that's why we battle our own with more energy and gusto than we would ever expend on strangers." David Assael

_What a fool you are…for twenty-five years nothing changed. What did you think would happen? Did the Red Sea part? You worked…for…him. For two years—day in and day out-- you were right under his nose—did he ever stop to say "Hello"? You didn't accomplish anything…you failed…._

An adorable, toe-headed little girl complete with bright-pink Barbie backpack skipped down the street, brimming, middle-aged gentleman in tow. A scene Victoria witnessed numerous times, yet never managed to obtain a glimmer of insight. As they faded away into the distance, Victoria felt as if the bottom of her heart had fallen to the floor and been discarded like a wayward scrap of paper.

"Sweetheart?" The kind, familiar, female's voice which settled on the bed next to her never seemed to register. "Oh Sweetie…have you been sitting here all night? Look at you….you haven't even changed clothes…" As the voice started to rummage through suitcases, Victoria's head dropped… Kneeling on the floor, the Voice held her favourite pajamas. Victoria did not move. With the patience of a saint, the Voice remained. After an extended moment, she spoke softly. "…I….Victoria…" she wasn't sure what to say… Although Victoria was a young woman, a lost little girl waited for a response—without much hope of receiving one.The Voice sighed. "I wish…" she continued with much difficulty. "…Victoria…if your Father—after everything he's put you through…"

Impercievbly, Victoria shook her head. Shutting her eyes, Victoria tried in vain to lock out a cascade of bad memories. "…it should have been _me_. I should be _dead_. Everything would be ok." A ten year old memory, the death of the only person that had cared whether she was living or not, was as fresh in her memory as if it had happened last night. Despite being cognizant that her "Daddy's" untimely death had been a horrific and tragic accident, Victoria still felt that the full weight of the incident fell squarely on her shoulders. "…everything would be….ok…"

The woman squeezed her hand. "…sweetie…don't ever day that. You were the best thing that ever happened to him. And no matter what happened…your Daddy still loves you. You and I both know that he wanted you to grow up to be a successful, young woman and to have a happy relationship with the other side of your family…" Involuntarily, Victoria's mouth opened to speak, but nothing came forth. "He's very proud of you, Victoria...I know he is…"

"I….I just…" Victoria gave up trying to speak. She could barely summon up the energy to take another breath, let alone form a coherent thought.

"I know sweetie…I know." Coaxing her from the bed, the kind woman tried to move her towards the bathroom. "I'm going to get your bed ready…you go change…ok?" Glad to receive even a miniscule amount of positive direction in her life, Victoria complied with the woman's wishes.


	2. Chapter 2

"You know…" inharmonious, metallic groaning filled the air as the doors to lockers were randomly accessed by their temporary owners. "That _particular_ rendition of "Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star"? Despite the plain, white terry cloth missile that was now headed straight for his nose, the man stood his ground, both hands clasped tightly over his heart, as if he were about to break out into some grandiose, heartfelt love song. "It just…_inspired_….me…" cracks began to show, as he struggled in vain to keep from snickering.

"Shawn…" It was obvious that the two men were close friends. It was almost like they had formed some sort of secret club. Permitting no one else to address or harass (depending on the moment) each other. "I really…and I say this with all sincerity because I am your friend and I care deeply about you…" The second man clapped him over the shoulder, continuing in a fatherly tone—"…lay off the whole…chair shots to the head…ok, buddy?"

Before Shawn could put his comeback to words the twang of a polyphonic rendition of the "1812 Overture" filled the cavernous locker room. The room which had, moments before, been filled with the sounds of athletes coming back from their bouts in the famed squared circle instantaneously fell silent. It could be said that if a pin had dropped everyone present—and in the arena could have heard it, but the fact is that the sound would not have alerted—but deafened. In addition to his own, another set of eyes watched anxiously as he rummaged through the duffel bag to retrieve the tiny electric device. Still ringing, Shawn shoved the box into the front pocket of his bag. As tense as the night had been for everyone present—not just the two friends, the semblance of mirth they had just shared was now gone. Tossing his bag aside, Shawn sank down into the chair it had presently occupied. His friend leaned against the wall.

"You haven't…?" Paul had tip toed around his sister-in-law's "disappearance" since it had happened. Despite his concern, it was obvious he wasn't exactly sure how he should broach the subject with his long time friend.

Somberly Shawn shook his head back and forth. No one—not even he, who had known her throughout her life, promised to be her God Father and care for her as if she were his own had been able to reach Victoria. A weary head rested itself against cold, hard steel. "I should have known…I should…"

"Shawn, don't be ridicu—"

Sitting straight up, he eyed his friend. "**I**, Paul…**I** should have known." His friend could not argue with that.

Right hand running through hair, Paul tried to think—of something, anything…that they could do. "So she just up and…poof?"

Poof was more than right. Incommunicado for over two weeks? This was beyond the point of being a serious situation. "Paul…" he rubbed the back of his aching head. "I am telling you the God's honest truth. I wouldn't screw around with something like this…you **know** I wouldn't…I can **not** find Victoria." Hands raised in desperation. "I went to her house the other day…Owen's belt is gone…" Gathering fresh street clothes for the ride back to the hotel became a useful distraction.

The gravity of this new revelation knocked Paul off his feet. This was not a good sign. "So…ah um…" he cleared his throat, trying to formulate his thoughts "she's not gonna…" he shook his head "you know…um…show up tonight? To um…meet with Vince?" Compelled to ask, the answer was apparent.

The irony of the comment forced a chuckle as Shawn continued to change.

"Well—you know….he did get her flowers…and stuff—" Paul tried his best to cram some optimism back into the situation. "…with it being her _birthday_ and all...I thought she might…" gesticulating wasn't helping him much "…you know…"

Trying not to be wildly harsh on his concerned friend, Shawn suppressed a fully-grown snicker. "Ahhh…so that's what the Old Man thinks? _Today_ is her birthday?" Two fingers loudly snapped against one another. "Paul, do me a favour, ok? The next time I fck up royally…and I do mean royally…with one of my kids? Remind me to declare the next day their birthday, and buy them an ice cream cone so everything will be ok…ok?" With a pittying clap to the shoulder, Shawn left the room, praying that the endless, idiotic comments had ceased—at least for the rest of the night.


	3. Chapter 3

However much frustration tried to latch onto him, Shawn still felt an overwhelming sense of responsibility for Victoria. Had it been anyone else, he would have washed his hands and simply walked away. But because it was **her**, his conscious would not allow it. Grabbing a bottle of water from a nearby cooler, he hesitantly knocked on the heavy office door. Five…maybe ten seconds, and he could tell himself that his duty was done. That this formal request for a "talk" was nothing more than hype. It was more likely than not the request was engineered to quell the furious masses.

A sense of despair had fallen over the entire locker room, and this was certainly no exception. Quietly, he took a seat and waited—

The man sitting behind the desk, usually easy going and upbeat, looked worried and exhausted. He tried to speak, but fell far short—aimlessly shaking his head. "Have you—" Shawn did not need any clarification.

The weight of the world pressed down on his shoulders as he shrugged. "I wish I had, Shane…"

Suddenly, the man behind the desk seemed upset. "This is horseshit!" Papers fluttered when fist met wood.

Shawn met his anger. "Just what the hell do you want me to say, Shane? I've done everything I can." Shawn wasn't sure whether or not this display of concern was genuine. Rolling of eyes only served to further infuriate the beleaguered "God Father". "You know—it would have been so refreshing for ANY of you to show any kind of concern for Victoria two damn weeks ago…" Good, this had gotten his attention.

"You're not the only one who's concerned and you know it, goddamnit…"

"Shane…" Shawn sipped his water. Now, more than ever, he was convinced he was surrounded by idiots that just did not get it. "Even if I could talk to her…what am I supposed to tell her? Hmm?"

"Yeah…well…" Shane tossed his pen across the desk. "She could have come and talked to _me_…she knows it…Just what the hell did she think she was trying to do, anyways?"

Wearily, Shawn rose to his feet. "Of course…you are absolutely right. She could have leaned on her big brother for moral support…you know…the one who's never bothered to give her the time of day!"

The door creaked open. Shawn didn't have to turn around to guess exactly who that was. So disgusted he could not look Vince in the eye, he spoke to the wall in front of him. "And don't you even believe for second I really buy that bullshit you're trying to sell…"

"I don't know who the HELL you think you're talking to, but IF that girl is my daughter…I think I have a hell of a better reason to be concerned than you do…"

Yep. Shades of "Old Vince" were peaking through. Wanting nothing else than to destroy the source of everything that had gone wrong, Shawn stared him down. But his conscious refused to be silenced. In a way, he felt sorry for the Old Man—whichever way he turned, whatever action he took, the hole he was digging was progressively getting deeper. Pretty soon, he'd be in China. The time of subtle suggestions had passed. Hand on cold, steel door handle, he paused, turning his head just so he could study Vince's reaction to what he was about to say. The scintilla of sympathy he had just felt quickly evaporated. Only now did he truly understand what Victoria had meant when she said she "felt as if she'd been slapped in the face". Reminding himself of why he was still here, Shawn forced himself to calm down before he did something he would regret. Turning his head back towards the door, he spoke. "…you think this is all a joke, don't you?" He paused for a long moment. "…her birthday was six weeks ago, Vince…six weeks ago…and you didn't even give a shit…" Silent and defeated, he left the room, shutting the door behind him.


	4. Chapter 4

A day passed that had not, for once, been drudgery with every breath. The cloudy, grey skies that dampened the spirits of normal people, bestowed a sense of comfort and security on Victoria. While the common complaint amongst Londoners was when the bloody sun would appear, Victoria wished it wouldn't. She adored gloomy, winter weather. Sliding her arms into the sleeves of her heavy, great, coat felt as if she were wrapping her arms around a massive teddy bear.

She had traversed the entire city-walked amongst thousands, if not millions of people, and absolutely no one gave her a second glance. Victoria had told her friend she was "going out to think about what she should do..." The real truth was that, for one of the few times in her life, Victoria simply ate lunch, shopped, and lived-like a real person. She was also propositioned by a drunk who claimed to be some sort of Irish Priest-but that event, she would keep to herself.

Throughout the evening, the euphoria continued and only stopped when Denise (her mate from University) passed out, fast asleep on the couch. As Victoria retired to her own bed, only for a split-second did she wonder why things were so quiet, and why, despite numerous voicemail message nothing had happened yet.

After an overdue absence, sleep finally embraced Victoria. Snuggling closer to her pillow, down in her blankets, her thoughts, as she finally dozed were occupied with someth-err someone pleasant, and decidedly not with events that had passed.

"Mmgdrrg...I did...why cops?" A blue light flashed in her peripheral vision. One half awake, the other half thinking she was being pulled over by a traffic cop, it wasn't until she felt the slight vibration emanating from the petite nightstand that she opened one eye to investigate the source. Once it registered that it was her mobile, a force of habit compelled her to answer-without even checking the caller ID.

"Lil' Girl! Jus what the hell you think yer doin?" A thick, Texan-laced man shouted into the phone.

"What the..." only then did she bother to look at the still illuminated LCD screen to learn the identity of the caller. "Suuuuuuum bitchhhhh..." groaning into the pillow that had previously been the source of what promised to be pleasant dreams, she berated herself for picking up on the one...the only...

Unabashed snickering was audible from the other side of the line. "Yup...that'd be your Daddy, Lil' Girl..."

More snickering was heard. Out of all the people that she just happened to pick up the phone for, it had to be Stone Cold. Of course she loved him as she loved all of her adopted Uncles...but...Dr. Phil he is not.

"An what's this I hear about you runnin off? You can't jus up and leave your man like that...what the hell is wrong with you woman?"

Good Lord, is he drunk? Better yet, am I drunk? "Excuse me? What the hell?"

"And it's nice to talk to you, Lil' One. Now I said...what the hell is wrong with you? You done missed this boy's match..."

"Look, Steve...it's like...shit...it's 4:15 in the morning...can we have this discussion another time? I don't even know what the hell you're talking about..." Victoria made the mistake of yawning into the headset.

"Helll no we can't have this discussion another time..." She hated it when the mighty Stone Cold imitated her like that. "Now. You've got everyone's panties in a bunch...jus what the samn hell is going on?"

Boy? What Boy? Who is this Boy of which you speak? Not able to comprehend the entirety of the miniature tirade she had just been subjected to, Victoria responded to what she assumed Steve was calling about. Sighing heavily, she gave him the pat answer she prepared on the plane ride over. Sooner or later, she knew she'd have to utilize it. "Look, Uncle Steve. It just...it's too complicated. I just...I can't do it anymore..." So that hadn't come off quite as she had planned, but still, for being half awake in the middle of the night, it wasn't half bad. "I thought-hoped that one day Vince would, I dunno...wake up and see the light...and well-" Victoria forced herself to quell the anger she was starting to feel. "Well...that's obviously never going to happen...so what's the fcking point?" What a fool-was absolutely right.

"You know..." it stunned Victoria to hear just exactly how sober Steve sounded. "If this only involved you and Vince? Hell...I'd have bought you the plane ticket myself." Did he start to choke up? "I wouldn't blame you one bit and you know it, Victoria. But it's NOT, and you know that as well. You've got a lot of people that care an awful lot about YOU, Lil' Girl..." Victoria's heart, restrained by a massive knot, suddenly could not pump. Her rationalization, when she left, was that not all the comfort in the world could fill the void she felt-when it came to her family. It had, for a while, but it just was not enough. "...including that **boy** of yours. Don't let that prick of a Father you've got make you throw your entire life away...Don't you dare do it." Stunned by the brief, insightful outburst, Victoria sat agape, phone in hand, unaware the caller had hung up.


	5. Chapter 5

Ok...here you go! This entire "chapter" will be posted in multiple sections. This is a somewhat lengthy chapter...and the first chapter where we actually get to see what kind of a person Victoria is LIKE. She demanded that she get to tell part of the story from her POV...what can I say? As always, please let me know what you think...enjoy!

"Duuuuuuhniese! Duhhhhniese! Duhhhniese! DuhnieseDuhnieseDuhniese!" Shit! Shitshitshitshit! If at times like these I had an extra arm simply for the sole purpose of fastening zippers and buckles, I would gladly welcome the additional burden. Not only did Denise permit me to oversleep-leaving me just over one hour to dress for the theatre, she now also condescended not to grace me with her presence at such a critical juncture.

Despite what may or may not be happening in my personal life-one of the few things that has always made me happy, in typical blue-blood, just returned from "finishing school" (yes they do still exist) fashion is an evening at the theatre. Somehow, the world of professional wrestling didn't exactly afford me with the opportunity to adorn myself with honest-to-God, lady-like dresses. And we're not even talking about the required footwear...yet. While my Big Sister may dress, in what some may (loosely) deem more feminine attire, my job doesn't really require anything more advanced than a pair of jeans and a company t-shirt.

Contorting myself in every manner conceivable, Denise's presence never reached me. "Good bloody hell, woman!" Her face bright pink from the exertion of running up the stairs. "Is the bloody Queen outside your window?"

I watched her dramatic play of peering out the lacy curtains. Something wasn't right. What the...so that's why she decided to run and hide! Twenty minutes to go and she's still in her bright purple, cow-jumping-over-the-moon, fuzzy-wuzzy as a bear, terry cloth BATH ROBE?!? Twisting and turning my dress so that my chest wouldn't pop out, I had a sink...no, a sink HOLE in the pit of my stomach. The excitement I had felt not two seconds ago was steadily being replaced at the nape of my neck by an ache. "Pl...please tell me you didn't do what I **know** you did?"

The look of feigned innocence on her face was absolutely comical. She looked at me and gasped. I shrieked and nearly fell backasswards onto the cold, hard, floor. The next thing I knew, I was being led by the hand, just as if I were 2 years old and commanded to sit on the (closed) loo. Denise procured my makeup bag, and began to spread out the arsenal. "Oh no no nooooo...please, Denise...please..." I was reduced to begging. "You...I can do this...you have to go get ready!" Damn...that came out a little overly perky, to which she responded by pushing her glasses back up the bridge of her nose and grabbing my foundation.

"Lovey...now..." She began to apply the makeup-that part I didn't mind. "You know I absolutely adore you...and I would do anything for you...Close please..." I shut my eyes just as she had commanded. "But you have been laying around my fucking flat like a depressed zombie..." She didn't give me a chance to speak as she changed weapons. As soon as I opened my mouth, she quickly shut me up. Even I have to admit, Denise knows me like a book. "You and I both know that what you need is a good, swift, kick in the bum...smile please" Blush was being swept across my cheekbones. "...and a nice long day at the spa, apparently..." she breathed, under her breath.

"I heard that!" Confidently, I protested, but was quickly reduced to schoolgirl status when she pointedly eyed me.

"Good. As I was saying...a good kick in the bum you need, and a kick in the bum is exactly what ye shall receive!" Uh oh. That smirk, however good natured, forced my stomach into jumping jacks. "Would you sit still for two seconds! We only have a few minutes..."

Would she? Is she capable of? It could not possibly be anyone biologically related to me-she had, only last night, proudly proclaimed that they all had a special circle of hell reserved-just for them. Think Victoria! Think! Who could you have possibly mentioned to her...Oh Gaaaawd...Randy Fucking Orton? Wait a second. Anxiously, I bit my lip in concentration-going to the theatre, evening if it was all for the sake of getting laid, is a bit too much, I think, for him to handle.

My heart pounded so hard in my chest that I grabbed onto the edge of the vanity for support. Oh...THUD, my...THUD...GOD...THUD. With every beat, I felt as if I had been drop kicked in the gut. Unable to breathe-let alone formulate a plan of action, I only snapped back into reality when a Dixie cup of cold water was thrust into my hands. "And now, dearest Victoria...you see the method to my madness..." Gently, she forced me to put the cup to my lips and drink. "Just..." She was rubbing my back in an effort to try to calm me down-apparently. "...breathe...and...have fun for once, ok?"

There was a steady knock at the door, if Denise hadn't stepped towards the door, she would have gotten sprayed with a mouth full of water. And not, in the planned, "this is all part of my tough-guy gimmick", I grunt therefore I am, brother-in-law kind of way. As if sensing my next move, she retreated from the small room. My hand fell to my lap as I heard her footsteps receding down the staircase.


	6. Chapter 6

Somehow, someway, within the next ten seconds, I absolutely HAVE to shake this off and return to my normal self. What I had decided, during my self induced exile, was a rather pleasant room in which to relax-complete with a Victorian-styled claw foot tub overlooking a pretty garden, had magically transformed itself into a single occupancy dungeon.

Taking a couple of deep breaths, I willed myself to calm down. Surprises are, 99.99999 of the time, thought to be good, right? Quickly checking myself over in the mirror for any critical last-minute fixes, a miniature war broke out in my head. Deciding that this was clearly no time to waste on self-reflection, I ended what had become a stand-still, reminding myself that Denise loved me, had stuck by me through some of the worst times in my life and therefore simply did not have it within her power to lead me astray...at least, too far. Besides, short of jumping out a second story window, the only way to extricate myself from this prison was to exit out the front door. Whoever was obviously now waiting for me downstairs was simply an obstacle to my freedom.

As I nearly revealed my true self and tumbled end over end down the stairs, I decided that from now on, both here and at home, I would make it a point to keep my high-heels downstairs. I gripped the solid oak banister with my left hand. A twinkle caught my eye. Note to self: wear more bracelets. In no way, shape, or form do I have the perfect body of a Diva. It's embarrassing to admit, but I always thought my hands are pretty. My hands are very lady-like and petite...not rough and muscular like those of some of the women I work with. What the average fan doesn't know-is that all the plastic surgery, skimpy bikinis and yes, even Playboy photo shoots are a poorly constructed smoke screen. Don't get me wrong, some of my closest friends also happen to be Divas, but just like the guys, there are quite a few of them that have some major issues.

Hmm. Why is Denise upset? I stopped, just for a second, to see if I could hear anything else. I thought I had heard Denise arguing with someone. I shrugged and cautiously went to where I supposed the noise had come from. As I approached the doorway of the sitting room, I observed Denise, purple bathrobe and all, standing with her back to the fire. White as a sheet, I also noticed that she held a red-hot poker in her right hand...and was about to use it.

I've never quite understood writers when they complain that their fingers are incapable of keeping pace with the speed of their minds. Denise glanced up at me, and as if God himself came down from Heaven to give me some sort of holy-epiphany, I knew. My heart told me what my mind refused to believe. I didn't have to turn my head to know who was standing on the other side of the room.


	7. Chapter 7

Real life IS stranger than fiction. It is indeed true what they say. All though in Victoria's case, the razor thin line that separated the former from the later had become so completely obscured that, at least in Victoria's eyes, real life and fiction had become one in the same.

It is one thing to fantasize and plan for one of the, if not the most important things that you will ever experience in your lifetime, but quite another when that event finally occurs. From the time Victoria had learned the truth about her parentage, at a very young age, she had tried to prepare herself. However, presently being confronted with meeting her Father for the very first time, every preparation, every planned speech, flew straight up the chimney with the smoke from the fire.

'He is just a man' While it would be a lie to say that she had absolutely no fear of Vince, Victoria prided herself on thinking that while others would literally kiss the ground he walked on, she realized despite being important, he was human—just like everyone else. Besides, if he were truly the powerful God everyone made him out to be, why did he end up treating her the way he did?

Reciting her familiar mantras brought her solace and strength, as she advanced into the room. It had to happen sooner or later, and whilst she wished she would have had more time to build her courage up, Victoria told herself that she'd feel better once it was done and over with.

What little bit of anger she had managed to conjure, soon dissipated to a sort of sad pity when she eyed the look of despair on his face. This was indeed quite a change from the "you can all go straight to hell" bravado she had become used to. On the other hand, while he did look worn out, and short of applying makeup, couldn't disguise the dark circles under his eyes (she briefly tried to recall if she had ever heard of him using cosmetics), one of the things he was known for was being an extraordinary actor.

Returning his gaze with an equal, if not more, deeper despair, it became apparent, that no matter what had taken place, something was definitely "off" with the mighty Chairman. Her gaze never faltering, Victoria stood her ground. She was, in essence, forcing him to make the first move.

"I-…." He swallowed hard. Pushing absolutely everything out of her mind, she scrutinized everything about Vince. His posture, his facial expressions, even the sound of his voice…anything to give his story some sort of credibility. He looked her over. His eyebrows furrowed.

Deciding that she had to have some distance between herself and this, for all intents and purposes, stranger, Victoria maneuvered herself so that she was behind the nearest chair…putting into good use a sort of shield.

"You're…going out?" Aha. It seems that "intestinal fortitude", in some measure had returned.

Just as soon as she sensed him regain that sense of confidence, Victoria wanted nothing better than to scream at him until she lost her voice. 'NO, you dumbshit! This is what I DO!!! Of course I sit around in my little rat cage in an evening gown!' The presence of her friend standing shoulder to shoulder with Victoria shoved her back to reality. She knew that Denise would not leave her unless it was her wish. Determined not to debase herself to screaming, and as she had wanted to many times, claw his eyes out, Victoria willed herself to remain cool. "….that was the plan." She turned her head slightly in Denise's direction "…Would you mind terribly putting on a pot of tea?" A couple of brief, reassuring looks later, she returned her focus to the main event.

Oh Good Lord…now HE was using a chair for a shield. He was even nervously fidgeting with one of the head rest covers. He was a good actor, even Victoria had to give him that. "Victoria…I had…"

"Please. Do not call me that." The words escaped from her mouth before she was able to stop them. She despised being called "Victoria"…that was the female form of her FATHER's name. Vince looked genuinely surprised. "I...usually go by my middle name."

"I see." Vince was audibly a little irritated, but doing a fair job of controlling himself. "As I was saying. I had….I received your…letter, Victoria…"

How stupid does he think I am? Slightly, she rolled her eyes and shook her head. Instantly, a million and one comebacks sprang to mind, but she decided to bit her lip—squirreling them away for safekeeping.

"I had..." The look of deliberate concentration spread across his face did little to soften Victoria's disbelief. "I had hoped things would be different. I had hoped that you would have come to me—first…"

Oh this is just way too the hell much. The drugs he was so literally doing when he got mother pregnant, had apparently not worn off. He waited for a response. "Right, right…" She nodded her head. "You are so absolutely right Mr. McMahon." Sarcastic she may have been, but she spoke her heart's truth. Maybe she should have taken Denise's fire poker after all.

"Don't do that, Victoria…" intended or not, that hint of "I am the boss therefore do as I say", present in his voice, broke Victoria of most of the cool headed composure she had struggled to gain.

"…I don't know why I didn't think of that sooner!" Sarcasm really was one of her finer gifts. "…after all, I think we all know that a commoner such as myself would have GLADLY been admitted into your presence…"

Be it frustration or anger, the scarlet in his face, his stance, the very fact that she had, in some way, set him off his game, in some far, far, far away, remote, dark corner of her mind, bolstered her confidence. "…seeing as how we really don't know whether or not said commoner exists from one day to the next…"

"Look Little One…"

How DARE you have the audacity to come in here and address me like that! Trembling with anger, it took every ounce of strength within her being to simply not come completely unhinged. That hurt. Him using THAT particular term of endearment went straight down her spine. That was what Daddy always called her. Hearing herself called that for the very first time since her Daddy's death brought back everything she fought so valiantly to suppress. Squeezing her eyes shut so hard she was on the point of hurting herself, she raised a hand to give him HIS marching orders. She took a deep, long breath to steady herself. "Get. Out."

"Absolutely not!...Look…I came here to try to make things right…but if you're not going to act like a mature young woman and be reasonable…" He was on the verge of shouting at her.

A mature…young woman? A mature young woman sure as hell would never have put up with you. Remembering everything this "man" had done to her—all the hurt, pain and anger flooded straight to the surface. "You…of al people want to lecture me about maturity?" Vince was shocked into silence. "Fine." Still nothing. "You've managed to single-handedly blot me straight out of existence." Obviously she had his complete attention. "….and yet you claim that you've come here to "make things right"?" She half snorted. Vince wasn't managing to phase her, not even for a millisecond. "If you are the paragon of virtue that you hold yourself up to be…then you won't mind taking a DNA test…will you?" Oh boy was he pissed. Victoria experienced a measure of satisfaction seeing that she was hitting one of his nerves. "Until that time, you and I have absolutely nothing, and I do mean NOTHING to discuss with one another. If, and I do quote my Daddy verbatim you "come to your senses", you know how to contact my lawyer. Until then…" she shrugged as she began her ascent back up the stairs "I'm done. I have nothing more to say to you…"


	8. Chapter 8, A Father

A/N: This section is intended to be Vince's flashback. I apologize for not using italics…but they look plain icky on my screen ;) It's intended to take place a few days after his "meeting" with Victoria.

If he had to purposely weaken his business' stance on the impending negotiations, Vince didn't care. His child's maternal grandfather had condescended to bring his youngest daughter, Victoria, along for the "holiday", and inwardly, he couldn't be happier. Having been afforded but a precious few opportunities to see the child, the summer storms which had delayed their return to Calgary was worth more to him than any bank deposit he could make.

It struck him that even as a toddler, the little girl, HIS little girl had acted so well and proper. While Vince found it a trial to have her brother and sister around when he was "conducting business", for fear of, what some may term, normal brother/sisterly behavior and/or demands for his attention, this child simply sat in the corner with her stuffed rabbit observing all the activity around her. At four years old, his mind told him that Victoria couldn't begin to comprehend the business that was conducted around her, yet still she watched. Sometimes he could swear that Victoria was more interested than her 17 year old brother—the future heir to the family dynasty.

The meetings endured for hours upon end—yet there sat his little girl, neatly tucked out of the way, with the beloved bunny. Even his wife, the child's stepmother, had shown an attachment. His son and some friends had been attempting to play football on the massive back lawn—even as it started to sprinkle. The smell of freshly baked cookies, grabbed the collected attention of the businessmen. It was Saturday afternoon. Stephanie and Linda had evidentially been hard at work in the kitchen baking. Vince would have thought that any typical, little girl would have squealed with delight to join the other women, if not to make a mess. However, when Victoria had answered "dunno, Thank Few", shirking to her Grandfather's side to his wife's entreaties that she might "have more fun" with them, a part of him was glad. Even if the overwhelming majority felt that she should be hanging onto HIM and not her "Pawpaw".

Perhaps he was mistaken, Shawn noted as poured himself a cup of coffee and noted the absent minded expression on the mighty Chairman's face. Vince had wanted to see Shawn, which, for some reason or other, Shawn instinctively knew wasn't related to work issues. How long had he been sitting like that? Ever since Victoria had quit—about two and a half weeks ago, Vince hadn't been acting right. Even the evil, "Mr. McMahon" character had suffered a bit. Backstage, while he ruled with an iron fist, he had become somewhat of a recluse, secluding himself to the confines of his office whenever possible. Even when the occasion forced him from hibernation, Vince's conversation had been strictly limited to business. Shawn hunkered down in the chair, for what he felt was going to be a long, hard chat. How Father and Daughter could be so like each other and not even know it puzzled him.


	9. Chapter 9

Although he could barely admit the truth to himself, Vince couldn't stand the intensity of pain he saw in his youngest child's eyes. Not to mention the mere contemplation of the idea that HE himself had been the chief cause. As difficult as it may have been, he had managed if not survived the assorted trials and tribulations his life—and other two children had presented him without seeming to flinch. However, when he looked into those sky blue eyes that had once been crystal clear and sparkling with hope and happiness, and saw that they had become clouded and heavy with intense misery and pain—he had to look away

Shawn sighed heavily as he exchanged knowing glances with Linda (Vince's wife). Weary of having to answer the same question so many others had been asking, Shawn drank his coffee and waited for Linda to rouse her husband.

Linda did simply that, placing a fresh cup of coffee before Vince, fixing herself one, sitting down in the visitor's chair opposite Shawn. Vince sipped the coffee, aware of his visitors, but refused to ask the question he already knew the answer to.

Linda sat her cup down on the edge of the desk. "I take it you haven't heard from Victoria?" She folded her hands on her lap, in an effort to conduct herself as diplomatically as possible. The room became gravely silent.

Shawn twisted the cup in his hands, as if they were cold and the heat from the steaming liquid would be transferred through the cardboard vessel.

"She's not stupid, Linda. She's probably not speaking to him for the same reason we're having this conversation…" Vince piped up abruptly, much to the surprise of his two companions.

Surprised at this accusation, Linda looked to Shawn for confirmation. Shawn, in his turn, smiled wryly and shrugged. If it had taken Vince THIS long, it was about damn time. "I'm sure you're right, Vince…" he sat his own cup down before slumping back in his chair.

Grateful to win the point despite what it signified Vince seemed to perk up a bit—sitting up a tad straighter.

"I see." It was Linda's turn to nod solemnly. She paused for a moment—as if she were trying to figure out what to say next. "And you don't---think you could convince her to come back—"Briefly she glanced at Vince, who, for the first time in days had a spark of boyish-like hope in his eyes "—to work?"

Almost as soon as he started to groan, Shawn checked himself. There were ways of speaking with "the guys", ways of speaking to "the boss", but when it came to Mrs. McMahon, it was well established that one had to mind their P's & Q's. Still, Shawn was frustrated—and worried sick about the God-daughter that was out there, and whom he knew needed to be surrounded by those that cared for her. As painful as this was for him personally, Shawn knew what he had to say. "Even—if I could, I can not honestly tell you that I would." Sensing Linda and Vince's surprise and shock as this statement that, at least in this regard, he wasn't completely on their side, Shawn decided it best to gaze on a potted plant that rested directly behind Vince.

Shock turned to muddled anger. Who was this person who called himself HIS daughter's "God Father" and refused to do for her what she needed the most? Vince seriously contemplated making Shawn go and get Victoria right NOW on pain of joining the unemployment line. However, as if his wife sensed exactly what he was thinking, he kept his ruminations to himself.

Linda cleared her throat and resumed the task of consuming the coffee she had almost forgotten about. "And…" again, she placed her cup back on it's perch, trying not sound as if she were afraid of what Shawn might have to say. "What makes you say that, Shawn?"

Shawn glanced at Vince, who, by this time had gone from shock to anger to what seemed resignation, leaning back in his chair as if he were trying to subconsciously distance himself from what he did not want to hear. "Get it over with…" The lion licked his wound.

"Well…" Shawn decided that Vince's reaction to what he had to say would dictate just how much of the little, precious knowledge he would dish out. With a plethora of issues to begin with, Shawn had trouble deciding where he should start. "Knowing what I do know—"he sat up in his chair, in a semi-authoritative manner. They were coming to HIM seeking knowledge of their child—Vince's biological daughter. They needed knowledge which, most likely, only HE possessed. "This is probably very little, by the way."

Vince raised his eyebrows. He seemed curious and Shawn decided to indulge his curiosity a bit. "Victoria…is an extremely—"He gestured with his hands trying out how best to put this delicately. "In general she's not—she's very introverted. And she doesn't discuss her _family_." Shawn paused to determine whether or not Vince was taking this in, before resuming. Vince nodded his head as if to give his permission for Shawn to continue.

Linda sat quietly sipping her coffee and observing everything that was said. She too had a step motherly if not maternal interest in the young girl, but decided it was best at the present time to be there for her husband.

"For her to have actually _written_ that letter of resignation—" he shook his head  
"it must have taken quite a deal out of her." Shawn recalled how care-worn and simply crushed Victoria had appeared in the days leading up to that event. He wished he would have seen it before. Drearily, he looked at is feet. "She must have been really miserable. Victoria would never have even contemplated doing _that_ unless she completely lost all hope—"All hope of what or in whom didn't have to be said. They all knew it. Victoria had been waiting for Vince to "come to his senses". Over the Christmas holiday, one night, after the children were asleep, Shawn and Victoria sat in the middle of his gigantic living room wrapping presents for his children, drinking egg nogg, and having a heart to heart discussion—like they hadn't had in ages. It was the first time Victoria had actually verbalized to anyone her hope that one day she would reunite with her Father. After all, Owen had promised her that Vince loved her, but was simply trying to get his life straightened out. All she had to do was be patient.

Shawn never got over the surprise he felt that Victoria, despite everything she had been through, not even knowing her Father, had an attachment for him stronger than both of the children he had raised from infancy-combined. He prayed this own children loved him half as much.

Slightly nodding, Linda opened her mouth to speak, but had a hard time finding her voice. All Vince could do was listen.

"How long—did she know, Shawn?" Linda's voice quavered.

"That's a tough question. Even I'm not sure about that." Shawn rubbed his neck. He racked his brain, trying to remember if Victoria had said anything on that regard. He recalled snippets of conversation he had with Owen, prior to Montreal. Victoria had been asking questions and Owen wasn't sure how he should answer them—how much she could handle. "I know Victoria started asking questions about—I want to say about a year prior to Montreal…" Shawn decided to leave Owens' name out of it as much as he could. No way was Vince prepared to deal with that issue—yet. "Victoria had apparently overheard some things—"

Once again, Shawn could see that Vince was a bit confused.

"Speakerphone, Vince." The reply served its purpose. "Besides Bret not knowing when the hell to shut up—"he added under his breath. Momentarily absorbed by her coffee, Linda didn't pick that snippet up. It didn't matter. The object did pick it up and nodded in sympathy. "I'd have to say that Montreal confirmed it."


	10. Chapter 9, Part II

"My God—" Linda gasped, gripping the arm rest of her chair in a vain effort to steady herself.

It was Shawn's turn to be confused. Focusing his attention from Vince to Linda, he made an effort to decipher her newly found bewilderment. After a long and silent moment, she took a sip of her coffee and spoke to her husband. "She's certainly doesn't take after her brother and sister, Vince…" Vince sat back in his chair and pondered the thought. Shawn went to take another sip of coffee, and noticing that his cup was bone dry went to refill it.

Linda was right. More right than she could possibly know.

"Maybe that's the problem." Vince looked as if he had just bitten into a sour lemon. "At least if _they_ would have had a problem, _I_ would have known about it. In Stephanie's case, half the free world would have known about it…but my point remains. How am I supposed to do anything if I don't find out until after the fact?"

Shawn smiled to some extent at the comparison of his God daughter to her older siblings, but that quickly passed. "Vince, you just don't get it, do you?' His anger was beginning to simmer, and both Father and Stepmother quickly took notice. Shawn sat straight up. "Your daughter—"Subconsciously, Shawn placed extra emphasis on the word "daughter". "Your daughter never was, never is and will never be—" Even he had to wince when he became aware of the weak reference to the other half of Victoria's biological family. "She's NOT Shane and she sure as hell is not Stephanie. The sooner you understand that, the better off we will ALL be—"Shawn eyed Vince who sat there shockingly agape. He decided to seize the opportunity while he still could. It was a good thing Linda decided to keep quiet, or Shawn would be compelled to put her in her place as well.

"God only knows what _they've_ told her." It now appeared that Shawn was going to have to address Linda as well.

Shawn's head flopped back and he rubbed his eyes. Had he known that Linda would try to interfere where she obviously had little to no knowledge of the situation, he would have held this conference with Vince at a time when he was alone. Momentarily ignoring the mighty Chairman, hand still partially covering his eyes, he turned his attention towards her. "Yes yes….and she and Bret have some sort of McMaster plan to try to take over the company—at least, isn't that the latest story making the rounds?"

Linda was starting to blush. She'd been caught in an idea that she now realized was rather ludicrous.

"God you people are blind." Shawn was getting fed up again.

"Excuse me, I don't know exactly who you think you're—"Vince started to rise from his desk.

Shawn raised his hand as if he were going to make a point. "Before you finish that statement, Vince—one question. _Who_ told you Victoria's birthday was a couple weeks ago?" The familiar look of sour disgust returned to Vince's face.

"I don't see what that has to do with anything." Linda tried to defend her husband.

"I'm going to tell you this one time, and one time only—you'd better pay attention." He folded his hands across his lap, looking solemn for the occasion. "It's no secret that Bret Hart is probably my least favorite person in this business, if not the planet. And if, as I'm afraid you have, Vince, have been getting your intelligence regarding YOUR daughter from HIM?" Shawn laughed sarcastically, rubbing his chin.

"What do you mean by that?" Vince sounded alarmed. "He is the child's Uncle."

"Ohhhh, you're right. I do not doubt that he isn't Victoria's Uncle, _biologically_ speaking. If I could change that for her, I would do it, in a heartbeat. She deserves much better."

So Vince had resorted, mainly out of desperation in calling the infamous Bret "the Hitman" Hart. He told himself that he had no other options. Victoria's friends gave him the cold shoulder, and Shawn simply refused to speak to him. He should have known better than to believe Bret Hart of all people would want to help HIM out. Vince knew he had seemed too eager at the time.

"Vince—"If for nothing else, Shawn sympathized with Vince as a Father himself. "Think about it. Did you see her when Bret was inducted into the Hall of Fame?" Crossing his strong arms in front of his chest, he allowed a moment or two for the reality to sink in. "Her home town—Calgary, she will NOT work in. Why exactly do you think that is?"

Vince swallowed—hard. Shawn was disgusted as to just how very stupid Vince was when it came to his youngest child.

"I'm pretty sure I can count on ONE hand the number of times Bret and Victoria have spoken _since_ Owen. And this--" struggling from tearing up, the wrestler had an equally hard time of keeping his voice steady "she won't even speak to ME about." Under no circumstance would Shawn dare to reveal the source of his information. That decision should be left up to Victoria and Victoria alone. As it was, should word of this conference get to back at her, she would be absolutely livid for him telling what he knew, so intensely private a person she was. Shawn rose, looking down at his principal object. "Your great friend, your buddy…when Victoria graduated and TOLD him she wanted to come work here, after he made it a point to make it impossible for her to work in this business anywhere else. When your DAUGHTER told him she wanted to know YOU? Would you like to know what his reaction was?" Shawn would have killed to be there. He would have finished what he started in Montreal, and then some. "She had been back from school TWO days—"If it were possible to yell in a barely audible whisper, that's exactly what he was doing. "That _bastard_ kicked her out of his house. She gave up EVERYTHING she had, for YOU…and you never even knew it."

Shawn left Vince to grasp what he said. He absolutely HAD to call his own children, just to tell them how dearly he loved them.


	11. Chapter 10

Crack! Chris didn't hear the announcers, or the refs or any single one of the thousand upon thousands of fans that filled the sold out arena. All he could hear was the sound of HIS hand connecting with the face of his boss, who some of the fans had, just seconds earlier been bowing to as if he we were some sort of a God. Vince was stunned. It took him a few moments longer than usual to recover. A God? "Why don't you screw with me you godamn coward?" Chris slapped Vince again, pulling his hand back when he felt the full force of the impact. There was no doubt in Chris' mind that his handprint would be clearly visible on the Chariman's face in a half hour or so, but he didn't regret it one bit.

For years Chris had tried to reason with himself—tried to see BOTH sides of the problem while neither participant defended their position. Sure Vince had done some downright shitty things in his own time, on the other hand, his experience with Victoria had taught him that even SHE could have a bit of a streak in her—when she let her guard down. Whatever the case or circumstances may be didn't matter to Chris anymore.

_She needs a shove, I'll give her a shove._ Chris fumed on his way back from his in-ring promo with her Father. He was half tempted to punch the brick wall out of sheer frustration at the entire mess. Christopher and Christopher alone understood **exactly** what that "resignation letter" and consequent disappearance of one slightly auburn haired, blue eyed Victoria Kennedy Hart-McMahon was all about. Was it possible that none of the Monkeys backstage could see what HE saw so clearly from the beginning? She didn't want **out**. All she wanted was for somebody, somewhere to stop kissing their ass long enough to pay her SOME sort of attention. She wanted help! And not even the sanctimonious, Shawn Michaels, who had established himself to be the resident Victoria McMahon expert was willing to hold his hand out.

Jericho had been in an exceptionally foul mood since Victoria had disappeared. Unfortunately, getting into a fistfight with her Father, and proceeding to whack her God Father over his head with that Bible that was constantly being shoved in everyone's face only added to the downright foulness of his mood.

Chris sighed. He hadn't been able to shake his customary habit of dropping by costuming at least once a night—if for nothing else than to tease the living hell out of his friend. On his way to the trainer's office, he had passed the side hallway where the other two women that worked alongside Victoria were stationed. A third station was painfully vacant. Chris swallowed his heart. He secretly kept on hoping she'd appear.

_His eyes ached as the sunlight hit his face. 'I thought I closed the godamn drapes, last night.' With a cranky moan, he rolled over, pulling the covers far over his head. Perhaps he had been a bit of a hermit since his divorce was finalized, but, he reasoned, it wasn't completely devoid of perks. He winced as he felt a cold liquid trickle down his neck. "What the fuc…." His first instinct was that his dog had decided to use his gorgeous body for a common toilet. In vain, he tried to swat away the frigid liquid that was assaulting him at a much higher level than before._

_"I let the dog out when I got here." That tone. He wasn't a match for that perfect mix of strength and tender comfort that only SHE could give. He closed his eyes. There had to be an explanation for this—of course! He was still dreaming! Or hung-over from the drinking binge of the night before. Or, as was the more likely case, a mixture of all three. Yet, he'd be damned if the icy liquid didn't keep coming! "You know I'll pour this whole thing out, Christopher." Through the blankets and sheets that protected him, he could hear her foot tapping away at the carpet—and she was loosing patience from the sound of it. He decided to ignore her for another moment, if only out of a sort of perverse pleasure. Chris loved the fire she showed when she was angry. "And I know you sleep in the nude…so if you don't want me to…." She sniffed, ever so slightly. This was a rare opportunity. Chris' ego refused not to live up to the challenge._

_Ever so the sexy beast he was, he rolled over on his back, folding his arms behind his head and smirked at the figure before him. Damn. It didn't phase her. It may have earned him a temporary reprieve from the pitcher of ice water she held in her delicate hand, Victoria didn't flinch. While most women wouldn't hesitate at the chance to throw themselves at him, this one stood before him, barely any makeup on, hair pulled back in a messy bun, dressed in a hoodie and jeans ready to throw something very different on HIM. She had once admitted, later laughing it off, that she didn't find herself attractive at all. She wasn't skinny like the other girls and didn't have their perfect complexions. But for some reason, God help him, he was attached to her. Snickering, he eyed the pitcher of water before looking back to it's holder._

_She pushed her glasses back up the bridge of her nose and Christopher told himself that she might have actually had the right idea bringing that pitcher of ice water with her. "You'll….join me?" That had come out sounding a little more hopeful than he intended._

_His grin broadened as she rolled her eyes. She held the pitcher perilously close to the verge of spilling—all over him. "Yes…that's exactly why I got on a plane, flew almost three thousand miles on MY time off…and came—here?" It was her turn to snicker. "To sleep with the almighty, Geriatric Christopher Jericho?" _

_"Well…you know…." He started to peel back the covers as if he were going to let her in. Instead of glaring at him, she returned the smirk and sat down on the edge of the bed. Holy SHIT! Was Victoria ACTUALLY attempting to come on to him? _

_"How ever could you have guessed my intentions?" She teased him, leaning in as if she were going to kiss him. She was close enough that all he would have to do is lean up a bit more and…._

_"GODAMNIT, BUNNY!" As quick as the nick name he had given her, he shot up out of the gigantic bed, grabbing a blanket to cover himself while she stifled giggles. How often he forgot that she was, like it or not, related to her sister. Even Stephanie, however, despite al the years of on-screen banter they shared, knew her place. Victoria, on the other hand, either wasn't aware or simply didn't think there were any lines for her to cross._

_Chris hopped around the room, trying to shake off the effects of one well-placed pitcher of water (Victoria had actually managed to pour it all over his lap, behind her BACK, despite pretending to be enamored with his lovely self). "It's about time you got your raggedy, Canadian ass out of bed…" She stood up. Just exactly where had his bathrobe disappeared to, this time? And, better yet, how had she gotten into his house?_

_Quickly robbing up, he eyed the youngest McMahon who was, at the present moment, very much occupied with examining the state of her manicure. He raked his hands through his hair. If it had been anyone else…male or female—who dared to show their face, Chris would have told them where to shove it. But it wasn't. It was HER._

_This must be his payback for the countless number of hours Chris spent bitching to Victoria about his ex wife. She hadn't judged him, or tried to give him her two cents worth, as everyone else he broached the subject with seemed to do. Victoria simply listened to what he had to say, occasionally uttering gentle words of comfort. Hell, she had even gone so far as to help him out with "date-night" ideas when they had been in Calgary. Why she continued the friendship was beyond Chris' comprehension._

"Jesus Christ, Jericho! Are you listening to a WORD I'm saying?!?" The self proclaimed "cerebral assassin" fumed, pacing behind the trainer, who, hard at work cleaning the gashes on Chris' right hand, was oblivious to the two Superstars. Chris quickly snapped out of his thoughts.

"No, Paul. _That_ would be your long haired, Bible thumping, little partner—" Biting his lip, Chris replied still distracted as he winced, feeling the frigid hydrogen peroxide, and it's accompanying sting. _Just exactly WHO is responsible, doesn't matter anymore._ After all, was HE responsible for writing the scripts? For once in his career, he thanked Fate for providing him with such a properly timed storyline.

By far the more sizable of the two men, Paul (HHH) stared at his blond-haired Canadian friend incredulously. Prone to bouts of loosing his temper, the thought that Chris Jericho—out of any guy in the locker room would turn his anger, randomly, towards Shawn Michaels, let alone DARE to start shit with the almighty Vincent Kennedy McMahon, blew him away. The fact that he had interrupted what seemed to be a rather heated conversation between the Canadian and Shawn, earlier that day, hadn't fazed Paul. Shawn Michaels was, despite all the preaching and Bible thumping, still and would always be Shawn Michaels.

The way Chris glowered at him forced the mighty Champion to step back and put some distance between himself and the wounded lion. The trainer had finished caring for the gash on Chris' hand, and Paul thought that maybe, just maybe he'd have a better chance trying to reason with Chris—in private. Chris obviously wasn't going to volunteer anything.

"I still don't understand what the HELL you're doing here H." Chris swore to himself that he would go through Paul too, if he so much as tried to insert himself into this mess. _At least I don't need a woman to have job security._ Outwardly smirking, he reveled in his opponent's dumbfounded expression. One twitch of that bulbous nose would have Chris telling H exactly what he thought—on that account. "Did your Daaaady send you in here so I wouldn't beat his ass—again?" Wisely, the trainer decided to make his exit as Chris started to rub his eyes and feign baby-like crying noises.

"Cute, Chris. Really cute." Paul's voice was becoming edgy as he shut the door behind the fleeing trainer. Paul wasn't completely sure what had crawled up Jericho's butt and had proceeded to die a slow and painful death, for the last couple of weeks, but Jericho was grating on his nerves. He rested against the door, barring Jericho from leaving. Paul crossed his arms in front of his chest and waited—for the reason to Jericho's recent psychotic break. Generally speaking, he liked the kid. Jericho wasn't his favourite, by any stretch of the imagination, but he was a hard worker, and talented—Paul had to respect those qualities, despite the gargantuan ego that, so many times, rubbed people the wrong way—especially those that weren't used to Chris' personality.

Chris remained smugly silent, instead, choosing to raise an eyebrow at the look of concentration on the "Game's" face. He wasn't sure if he had evvvvvver seen H attempt to concentrate as much as he was doing now. Chris snickered. How Paul would shit his pants if he knew that he had gone after the WRONG woman.

Paul stroked his goatee. Something about Jericho's recent change of attitude struck him as being familiar. A knock at the door snapped both men out of their thoughts, and Paul moved aside to let the person enter.


	12. Chapter 11

_ Dear Diary,_

Victoria stared at the leather-bound journal her Daddy—Owen Hart had surprised her with. They had fought before he left to join up with the tour…in Europe. Victoria forced herself to be ill in an attempt to get him to stay. She sulked in a corner of the unusually vacant, but none the less, famed Dungeon. If her Grandfather—not to mention her Uncle Bret discovered her there, she was well aware her ass would be ground meat. She settled down behind one of the many punching bags. It didn't matter. She sniffed, slamming the journal shut.

_Write some of your thoughts down, Little One. This is for YOU. You can put whatever you want in here, and it'll be nobody's business but yours. _The confused 14 year old little girl wiped the tears from her eyes with the sleeve of her jacket, hugging her knees to her chest. Laughter—not to mention the scent of Thanksgiving dinner was in the air, but she couldn't care less.

Despite Hart family tradition being that when one turned fourteen they were allowed to sit at the "adult" table—at most family functions—even if it WAS off to the side, when she had gone to take her place besides her Daddy, her Uncle Bret had quickly put a stop to it. Bret did, of course, seeing as how the entire clan was assembled, call Owen off to the side. Victoria wasn't stupid. She didn't have to hear the conversation to get the just of what was being said.

No one—not her Cousins, Uncles, Aunts or Grandparents seemed to want to have anything to do with her. The last few weeks, every time she entered a room, all conversation immediately came to a halt. Did she have some sort of disease that everyone knew about but her?

Victoria shuddered. One night, Uncle Bret had come to the house really late. The front door slammed and woke her out of a sound sleep. She heard yelling. As quietly as if she were trying to catch Santa Claus in the act, she wrapped her Bubble Gum pink bathrobe around her and snuck downstairs. The door to Owen's office was slightly ajar, sending a beam of light into the dimly lit hallway. As if she were being sucked in by a tractor beam (so what if they had been watching "Star Wars" earlier that night, it was HER turn to pick), she tip toed around it, peeking through the crack.

Owen sat two glasses of whiskey on the table. "Would you just sit the hell down and have a drink?"

Bret fumed as he paced back and forth in front of the window. "I hope you're happy Owen. I told you all along that THING was trouble. Look what she's done now!"

Owen was visibly pissed off. He grabbed his brother by the shoulder. "First of all, she's not a THING, she's a child." Grabbing the glass, he forced it into his older brother's hand. "Secondly, she had absolutely _nothing_ to do with it, Bret, and you and I BOTH know it." He grabbed his own glass silently praying they hadn't woken Victoria up.

Bret nearly choked on his whiskey. "If you would have let me get rid of her when I had—"He shut his mouth mid-sentence. Owen gripped his brother's shoulder so hard that it was causing Bret pain. No doubt he'd have a mark there tomorrow.

"If you have problems with Vince, I suggest taking it up with Vince, not taking it out on Victoria." Brother or not, Owen wouldn't allow such talk regarding HIS daughter—whoever her biological Father may be. He loved her as if—probably more than he would his own child.

Bret rolled his eyes obnoxiously. He was sick of his brother taking up with the man who had screwed him out of a job—not to mention a championship. "Wait. Just wait until he comes after YOU. Then you'll see—"Bret poured himself another round of whiskey and promptly downed it "—exactly where I am coming from. For once."

Victoria leaned back into a corner and shut her eyes. Something really bad happened to Uncle Bret at work. And from what she gathered, it had to do with her real Dad—she wasn't sure exactly what, or how, but somehow, from what her Uncle said it was HER fault. 

She never heard the footsteps. She never heard the door open. Victoria never sensed that there was someone else in the room with her—she was absorbed by her own thoughts. The other person sighed heavily and took a seat on the edge of the practice ring. This was a conversation he had known he would have to have with his Daughter, but dreaded it anyways. Had he not been the large wrestler he was, he would have gone to sit besides her. After all, that corner had originally been _his_ hiding spot.

He had tried to prepare himself, but couldn't find the words to say when he was confronted with the hurt, little girl. Owen was concerned. Victoria had never really been an outgoing child, but he had watched the little things that made her happy fall by the wayside over the course of the last year or so. She was so withdrawn. It was getting to the point where, if he could coax her to come down from her room at all, she would instinctively find some vacant corner to hide out in. It was as if she were trying to protect herself. He had, one time, even found her hiding under his desk reading a book—while all of her cousins were outside enjoying a family BBQ.

His heart ached at the memory of her begging him not to go to work. He had tried, in vain to get his wife to look after her while he was away, but in his heart of hearts knew that she was probably far better off with her Grandparents. Truth be told, his wife resented the fact that Owen made it a point to take at least one day, every time he was off work and spend it with Victoria. It did him a world of good to know that he had something to look forward to at the end of the week. Movies. The Zoo. Shopping. And lately, he had even sat through formal tea parties. What his fellow wrestlers would say if they knew about _those_ particular outings-- Owen chuckled at the thought.

Victoria picked up on the noise and didn't move a muscle. 'I'll get it this time—for sure.' She never looked up, in hopes that her visitor might not notice her.

Owen patted the ring beside him, hoping to coax Victoria out from her hiding place. She didn't budge. He frowned. He patted it again, Victoria still didn't budge. _This is going to be worse than I thought._ "Come on out, Little One. I think we need to have a talk."

With all the fright that a young child would display upon being discovered with his hand in the cooker jar after being told "NO!" Victoria peeked up at him over folded arms.

"Come on…" He smiled warmly. _She must think she's in trouble—again._ "Daddy—" He winced at the bitter taste that term of endearment left in his mouth. "I want to talk to you for a minute, Victoria."

Slowly, but surely Victoria approached him and began to climb up the side of the ring to sit down. Sitting beside him, she slung her legs over the edge and watched them swing back and forth—as if they were the single most interesting thing in the world.

"You know—" He tried valiantly not to choke up. "You know that no matter what anyone says, you'll always be my little girl…right?"

Still stuck on her swinging legs she nodded with the same, sad attitude she had displayed for months.

"And you know that I Love You…right?"

She groaned. It was a small comfort to know that not ALL traces of the typical teenager was lost. "Excuse me, young lady?" Owen was a bit amused.

"I know. I know. Yes, Daddy, I know." She rolled her eyes at him. So there was life in there after all. All he had to do was coax it out.

"Yes, Daddy. I know…_and?_" He pouted. She may be a teenager, but the strong man missed the days when hugs and kisses and "I love you, Daddy!" weren't in short supply.

"I love you too, Daddddy."

No kiss on the cheek for him. Perhaps he'd try for that another time. He waited a moment before bringing up the subject at hand. "Do you--?" He cleared his throat when her gaze shifted suddenly, to him. "Did you overhear Daddy and Uncle talking?" He watched her intently. Her teenage mind was trying to figure out what to say. She looked confused. "You know that you have another Daddy, right Victoria?"

She nodded gravely. Owen was sorely tempted to drop the subject and not continue. As hard as it was going to be, she had to hear it from HIM. Of course he had, when she had grown old enough, been truthful with her. He had told Victoria she was his niece and that when she was a baby he loved her so much that he wanted her to come and live with HIM. For a long time, this explanation had been enough to quell her inquires. However, as she matured, and the questions she asked became more specific—he had run out of explanations.

"Do you know who your real Daddy is?"

She thought for a moment, knitting her brows in early-teenage concentration. "He's…isn't he the one I saw one time? He came over here. He walked really funny and his hair was sticking up, really poofy."

He laughed at her reply. God love her. How he needed that, especially after the events of the last couple weeks. And how Owen would have loved for the almighty Vincent Kennedy McMahon to hear himself so described by his youngest child.

"Daddy?"

"Yes?" He eyed her, curious to see what would come out of her mouth next.

"Was he in some kind of accident or something? Is…that why he's like that?" The look of complete and utter innocence spread across her face only added to the hilarity of what she was saying.


	13. Chapter 12

_ 'To hell with it.' Victoria sighed heavily, picking up her mobile. Last year had been hard enough—with Vince throwing her beloved Big Brother a birthday party in the middle of the ring after RAW went off the air, but she couldn't handle it this time. She'd have to bite the bullet and call in sick—something she made a point not to do unless it was absolutely necessary. Besides, it was highly suspect that anyone would notice her absence._

_ She left the message with her supervisor letting them know she wasn't feeling well, and would be staying put at the hotel. 'Damn' Victoria shuddered. It had become impossible to tell if the frigid weather, or, the sense of loss she felt at the prospect of spending yet another birthday alone was to blame for how completely cold she felt. _

_ Victoria kicked her shoes off. She caught herself murmuring the words of "Happy Birthday". Her heart ached as she retrieved the pair of Bunny-themed flannel pajamas from her bag. When she saw them, they had to be hers. It was her birthday present to herself. Granted, they weren't the most mature choice of sleepwear, but, in some small way it comforted her heart to be reminded of something happy from her childhood._

_ Sitting on the edge of the bed, crossed legged, she wiped a tear from her face with the back of her sleeve—a childhood habit that seemed to rear it's head whenever she was truly upset. She took a deep breath and turned the TV on. Victoria was determined NOT to torture herself with memories of the past or the present for that matter. She was simply going to veg out in front of the television, and when she woke up tomorrow morning, would go about her life the same way she always did-- as if nothing ever happened._

_ It had been no small feat, but as the lonely Birthday Girl spread out over the width of the bed, her nerves quieted a bit. She had, over the course of the past couple of hours managed to clear her mind and become engrossed with whatever drivel was being hurdled at her on the miniature silver screen. Halfway asleep, Victoria wondered what her own room would look like with the faux pink leather wall treatment the host of some DIY show was currently demonstrating. She heard the knock on the hotel door, but decided to ignore it. Victoria was far too comfortable and cozy to even bother thinking about answering the door. Groaning slightly, she grabbed the remote and edged the volume up a bit. 'Not sewing any damn buttons back on tonight, guys…' She snickered as she watched the host get covered with pink paint. As the show went to commercial, the knocking continued. It even grew louder. Still determined NOT to be interrupted during her time off, Victoria turned her focus to the commercials while she waited for her show to come back on. _

_She came to refer to this time of night as "date time". It was about the hour when the first round of guys would get back from the arena and subsequently start heading out on their various nights out. Even though it wasn't technically her job, she had obligingly repaired buttons, ironed shirts and even fixed a tie or two for the guys who requested it. Contrary to common knowledge, most of the guys she worked with were pretty decent. Living the life they did, not being able to stay in one spot for more than two seconds, didn't lend itself to fostering steady relationships, and she was honestly happy to help. Truth be told, it helped her heart to feel like she was needed._

_The show came back on. Ad yet, the mystery knocker pursued! Was it too much to ask to be left alone? Victoria muted the television and threw the remote on the bed. Angered that anyone dare to interrupt her night of peace and solitude she stormed over to the door and threw it wide open. "Oh…it's just you…." Victoria had been prepared to tell the person on the other side of the door just where he could go and knock, but seeing a bright eyed, bushy tailed, grinning Jericho standing in front of her, she knew her efforts would be in vain._

"_Owwwwwwww!" Jericho followed Victoria back into the room, playing the part of the wounded prima donna. _

_Flopping unceremoniously onto her stomach, Victoria groaned. Out of all the people in the world—did it HAVE to be Chris? Victoria winced as she admitted to herself that she would rather hear Randy's sexist pick-up lines (again) than to have to play the part of the supportive best friend while helping the almighty Jericho get ready for another date. Sometimes she wished she hadn't made it her life's work to haul him out of that post-divorce slump. _

"_You know, if I didn't know you any better, I'd assume you weren't happy to see me." Christopher pouted. _

'_Not the pouty act…Please God…I'll take anything but thhhhhaaaat' Whether she wanted to admit it or not, Chris knew exactly how to push her buttons. Victoria knew that if she submitted to the puppy dog eyes, she'd be history. Keeping her face turned from him, she silently prayed she could get him to go brag about his night out to someone…anyone other than herself. "Christopher…I'm tired. It's late. I'm in bed. Woul—" _

_Chris snickered and Victoria nearly jumped out of her skin as she felt the weight of the body next to her. "Yes, I'd love to come to bed, sweetheart!" Involuntary chills ran down her spine. Victoria bit her lip—hard. There had been times, every now again, when Chris did or said something that made her feel—despite all her protestations, different. This was bad, bad, bad. Victoria shut her eyes and tried to ignore his presence. Those times Chris had managed to make her feel "different" had been occurring far too often for her liking._

_Great. Just great. He was playing with a wayward lock of her hair. 'Is he doing this on PURPOSE?' Putting on the fiercest scowl she could manage, Victoria turned over and propped her head up on one arm. She cussed herself. It was damn near impossible to scowl at a man that looked that adorable. "Christopher…" Victoria purred, playing right into Chris' hands._

"_Yessss?" Chris grinned like an idiot when Victoria reached over to gently stroke the stubble on his jaw._

_Christopher's response even managed to elicit a genuine grin from his opponent. 'If only he had a clue….' Slowly, Victoria leaned closer. What the hell. Once…just this once, Victoria would indulge herself. What better way than to mark your 25 birthday…a major milestone in your life? She BARELY brushed her lips against his and pulled back a smidgen. It was, after all, all in the sanctified cause of getting him OUT of her room, right?_

_He reached up to gently wipe away at a smudge on her cheek, and Victoria thought that she was going to turn into a puddle of literal goo. She knew going into the "kiss" that it was part of a rouse—a plan, just like the ice water had been, but she'd be damned if she knew what the hell she was doing now. His fingertips brushed the sensitive spot under her earlobe. Victoria squirmed and giggled before she could check herself. _

_Chris face lit up like a Christmas tree. After what seemed to Victoria like a short eternity—not that she didn't particularly mind this time, Chris propped his head up. The look of intensity was too much for Victoria to handle. She sat up in the bed with her back against the headrest. He was getting close….way too close to her and she HAD to put some distance in between them._

_She shivered momentarily when she saw the brief flash of disappointment fall over his face. Why was he here? Just what did he think he was doing? Victoria eyed him skeptically. _

"_You're right…it is getting late." Smiling warmly, he stood up besides the bed._

_It was Victoria's turn to feel disappointed at this turn of events. Noticing, what he guessed to be involuntary disillusionment he leaned over the bed._

_Victoria closed her eyes. With each breath, she took in the smell of his cologne, and swore that it was making her tipsy. She simply couldn't bring herself to inflict any one of her thousands of witty come backs. For once, Victoria relished just being in the moment._

"_Happy Birthday, Bunny" his voice was barely above a whisper as he gently kissed her forehead. Victoria felt the knot in her chest grow tighter with every breath. She felt his hand brush against hers as a small object was deposited besides her. After a few moments, she regained her composure and opened her eyes. She blinked several times and looked around. Chris was gone. The only sign he'd even been there was the small box that was laid by her hand. _


	14. Chapter 12, Part II

A/N: Thanks to everyone who's been sticking with me. I wanted to especially thank those who chose to alert me! I hope I won't disappoint! Enjoy :)

Ka thunk. Ka thunk. Ka thunk. Victoria stood before her washer, mesmerized by the circular movement of clothes, water and soap. Earlier that evening, she had performed her patriotic err-civic, no…_familial_ duty by tuning the big screen in her living room to Raw. Victoria forced herself to go through the motions.

She sighed as she watched the customary WWE introduction. It had become her private ritual to watch the introduction. Something about Vince's voice booming "you're fired" over a photo montage featuring the almighty Bret Hart never failed to lift her spirits—if only for a second. And of course, the best part came at the end, when they showed a picture of Vince Sr. When it came that time, for them to display the picture of her paternal Grandfather, Victoria had to look away. 

Denise had tried to convince Victoria to stay with her in London. In her heart, Victoria knew she'd always be welcome there. Denise was concerned. Truth be told, she had been since she first met Victoria several years ago.

Initially, when Victoria hinted that she out to return to Canada under the guise of "having business" to attend to, Denise had been adamant about making the trip with her. Denise protested loudly—saying that her mind wouldn't allow her rest unless she KNEW Victoria was settled in. However, in one of her stronger moments, Victoria had, with help from Denise's' long time crush been able to convince her that she'd be just fine. It should be noted however, that this "plan" was entirely contingent upon Victoria phoning the absolute second the plane touched down, once she had retrieved her bags, and again when she met with the chauffeur that was to pick her up at the airport. 

Half amused, the other half greatly touched that her close friend would be so concerned with her well being, Victoria gladly promised her friend. The idea that she would have a complete domestic staff waiting on her hand and foot in the very near fear future didn't seem too far fetched. 'Oh Good God.' Victoria winced when the thought first hit her that she might—just MIGHT have a bit more in common with her half sister, the self proclaimed "Billion Dollar Princess" than she had ever thought possible.

In truth, the break—sans hundreds of phone calls and messages from distraught he-men wrestlers, had refreshed Victoria somewhat. As Denise so eloquently put it, Victoria didn't go "mental"…she simply took a "holiday". Victoria smiled when Denise imparted the wisdom that even people with what could be termed "normal" families often needed breaks from one another. Let alone people like Victoria's—who where-- Apparently, when referring to Victoria's family, terms of endearment were no longer required. Denise had been accustomed to simply waving the fireplace poker. 

Victoria couldn't help but to chuckle at the memory of her Father, Vincent Kennedy McMahon, and the look on his face when he thought he was going to be impaled by a common household instrument. Somehow that last conversation between the two friends had ended on a topic which had become quite familiar to them both.

"…and would you possibly do me a favour Love and get me that Canadian chap's autograph? He is quite the looker."

Who was she to refuse such a request? Even if it had involved a certain toe-headed, blue eyed, handsom…err…colleague. Victoria silently prayed the two would never meet. If throughout all this turmoil Jericho—HER Jericho ever suspected—let alone found out that they were discussing HIM? His ego would be inflated until it surpassed the point of no return. 

She no longer felt the constant and overwhelming sense of despair she originally fled to London with. The plethora of emails, phone calls and even text messages she had received during her absence, had helped to bolster her spirits and remind her that while Vince may be the business, the business is NOT Vincent Kennedy McMahon. It struck Victoria as quite odd that one of the single most helpful pieces of advice anyone had given her would come from the mind of a 38 year old man who, it could be argued, didn't appear to have the sense of an 8 year old boy—at least, most of the time.

Throughout the plane ride back to Calgary, she thought about everything that had taken place. 'I know it's going to be hard. But I HAVE to do this. I have to go home. I have to deal with this. I just HAVE to.' Victoria steeled herself as she picked up her bag and prepared to deplane. She had managed to find a bit of strength during that plane ride, and she had to hold on to it—whatever the cost.

All the preparations in the world, however failed to prepare her for what she felt—now that she had returned to her "life". Victoria—plain and simple—did not feel as if she had returned to the life she left. At the onset, it frightened her more than anything else. To come from, however poorly structured, such a strict upbringing, then to have complete and utter freedom shoved upon you all at once? No longer was she playing the part of the timid niece, the rejected little orphan child, the meek little backstage troll, the forgotten daughter… In any rate, those rolls no longer dominated who she was.

For the first time since he had first told her, Owen's words FINALLY started to make sense. 'I am important not because of Bret Hart or Vince McMahon…but because I _am_ Victoria Hart-McMahon.' Perhaps those hadn't been his exact words, verbatim, but the sentiment still held. Victoria Hart-McMahon was successful, intelligent and powerful in and of her OWN right. 

"Damn dryer! I should fire you right now!" Victoria cussed the dryer as the jabbed the button for the second time. It evidentially had forgotten to start. As the dryer started to tumble and the comforting smell of her favourite dryer sheets filled the air, Victoria grinned. Loosing herself in the moment, she decided to unleash her newly acquired verbal skills on the wayward appliance. "Yeah…that's exactly right!" She shook a bottle of liquid fabric softener and glared. "Because I'm—" Victoria was just about deliver her grand finale when she felt the vibration of her mobile phone in her back pocket. As she reluctantly sat the fabric softener down to retrieve her phone, an impish little devil temporarily hijacked her mind. After all, with such a good line to deliver, the little devil in her wasn't about to let it go to waste.

"I'm Victoria McMahon, DAMNIT! What the hell do you want!?" For a second—just a brief second, Victoria was taken aback by the sound of her own voice. Even she could recognize when she sounded exactly like her Father—and she hadn't bothered to check the caller ID before picking up.

The familiar snickering on the other end of the line signaled to her that while she hadn't been delivered to the enemy—quite yet, she wasn't in friendly hands, by any means. 'Out of all the people---' Victoria bit her lip. Out of all the people in the world she had to reveal herself as the fool she was, she up and did in front of Jericho? Suave…very suave.

"So I heard." Victoria could see Chris grinning on the other end of the phone line. "And the next time I call—let me guess, you're going to have a big nosed husband and then you're going to tell me all about—" Victoria groaned, which only egged Chris on even further. "…all about how your boy toy is just _that damn good_" Chris screeched the last comment out in his best Stephanie McMahon imitation. "Where….ohhhhh where have I heard this all before?" Chris couldn't pull off innocent if he tried.

"Hmmm. Interesting, ChrisTOFUer." Victoria rolled her eyes. 'Can't you do any better than that?' "You know…I'm beginning to wonder about you." Victoria sat the laundry basket down. No way was Y2J going to win this one.

"So…you've been _thinking_ about me, have you Bunnnnny? It must have been so hard for you to--"

'Cocky little bast….' Victoria summoned up all the "nice Victoria" that was left. "You're sooo right smoochikins! I have been thinking all about you!" Victoria had to resist the urge to gag.

"Aha! So you admit it! I always KNEW you had a soft spot for meeeeeeeee!!"

'GOOD LORD….is he ACTUALLY falling for this? Again?' Victoria glanced around the garage for inspiration—and found none. She decided to string Christopher along. "You know Chris…." Victoria's voice came out sounding huskier than she wanted it to. "…you know me better than I know myself…" Victoria thought about the irony of the last statement as she listened to Chris' ego gratified snickers on the other end of the line. "And…I do have a soft spot for you. It's…actually been something I've been doing a lot of thinking about lately….and…." Victoria hesitated briefly, partly to see if Chris' was still playing along, but mostly to prepare herself for her pie de la resistance. 

"Go on Bunny…I'm still listening…" Victoria's jaw dropped. It was a damn good thing Chris wasn't physically standing in front of her, because, she reasoned, she most likely would have told him just about anything he wanted to hear—it would, however, be a cold day in hell before Chris ever had the opportunity to find that one out. "Bunnnny?" This man would be the death of her yet.

"As I've said, Chris….I've been doing a lot of thinking about you lately—" Without skipping a beat, she managed to challenge her inner Stephanie and change her tone mid-statement so that she was being completely serious "…and all the different and varied ways I want to HURT you! Just who the hell do you think you are, anyways?" Victoria had gone from swooning to swearing in a little under 2.5 seconds.

"Well, well, well….who would have ever known that our innocent, little Bunny has _that_ kind of a fetish? Ehhh?" If Victoria didn't skip a beat in her comeback, Chris had just sped right past her. "Kinda…kinky, don't you think?"

"Why are you SO damn concerned with my sex life, Christopher?" If she had made this comment in front of anyone else except her beloved washer and dryer, she would have been mortified. However, as soon as the words escaped her lips, she knew that was it. It was all the invitation Jericho needed…

"You and I both know that it's an established fact how the women in your family loooooooove them some Jericho! And besides…if memory serves me correctly, just who snuck into who's bed room to see who sleeping in who's birthday suit?"

Victoria's cheeks burned as if they were on fire. 

As if he could sense Victoria blushing on the other end, Chris immediately shot back. "Aww…it's ok, Bunny! It's only natural that a woman such as yourself would have a thing for a guy like me!"

"The only thing—" Victoria was so flustered and agitated, she nearly spat the words out. "The only THING I have for you….is finding out exactly WHO I'm going to get to kick your ass first! What I should do is hang up and call MY DADDDY…."

Chris got a huge kick out of this last involuntary outburst. "Like I said Princess err…Bunny….you McMahon women can't resist my charms!" So, he'd managed to piss her off to the point where she was threatening to sick the Old Man on him—perhaps all wasn't lost.

"You're…..you're…." Victoria couldn't bring herself to say the words. She knew what she wanted to say and so did Chris, but her sudden inability to leap over the edge just added to the hilarity of the conversation. "You just wait and SEE what happens to you Mister….." God, even her laugh reminded Christopher of her older sister. 

Completely indignity, and refusing to believe that HE would have the NERVE to call her home…her PRIVATE number and speak to HER in such a manner, Victoria hung up on him. She refused to give him any further satisfaction—for the moment. 


	15. Chapter 13

A/N: A huge thank you to everyone who has reviewed and/or alerted... You guys have no idea how much that inspires me to continue :) I won't take up much of your time (and, be warned, this is a monster section) but I don't want y'all to worry if I don't update for several days. I'm working on, what I hope you will think is an awsome chapter--and I want to make sure I get it right. As always, thank you for your support...and most importantly, ENJOY!

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Victoria collapsed at the kitchen table. As scared and hurt as she may have been, her heart bled when she heard her four year old nephew crying for her on the other end of the phone line. Even if it had been five in the morning (her time) when Declan phoned—how he managed to dial the digits was still in question, Victoria knew what she had to do.

She had visited with her brother's wife off and on during her tenure with the company. Victoria had even been permitted to visit with her nephews on occasion. The conversations had always revolved around light-hearted topics—what the babies were going to dress up for on Halloween, what dress Marissa was going to wear to the next big social event she was required to attend. Now that she thought about it, her conversations with her sister in law always revolved around what she and the kids were doing. Marissa never ever put Victoria on the spot, something Victoria was very thankful for.

Victoria's phone beeped, reminding her of the time. She sighed and rubbed her eyes. The afternoon she had spent with the boys had been exactly what she needed. Hugs and kisses replaced any weariness or jet lag that she had felt. So what if she had just literally got off a plane from London? She was NEEDED. Besides, after all was said and done…she'd end up accumulating enough frequent flier points to go to somewhere nice like…Fiji…where no one has evvvvver even heard of WRESTLING… Victoria giggled slightly as she imagined herself vegging out on her own private beach.

Marissa eyed her sister in law and shook her head. Victoria had arrived earlier that afternoon looking as if she had been run over a truck. She looked tired and worn out and completely and utterly exhausted. Sure the boys had lifted her spirits, and for that, Marissa was thankful. Perhaps, in some small way, Victoria would come to learn that she had a place in this family after all.

Victoria grinned as she looked off into the distance, much to Marissa's dismay. 'Wow. They really do think they're great actors.' Marissa chopped up carrots for supper. 'And you, baby girl—are the spitting image of your Father. And your brother….' She bit her lip. Marissa knew her husband way too well not to pick up on some of his habits—in his baby sister, Victoria.

"…coconut…I like coconut…" the alarm on Victoria's phone shrilled and she instantly turned as red as a fire engine—realizing she had been speaking aloud.

It was all Marissa could do not to burst out laughing.

"Oh…my…Lord. I am so sorry. I just—" Victoria was obviously flustered. "I didn't realize it was getting so late…Thank you for today…really…but I have to go…" Victoria reached for her purse, but Marissa quickly grabbed it and put it one of the upper cabinets—besides her own.

Victoria felt and looked as if she were a dear caught in the headlights of a southern hunter. Panic started to set in. "…really…I need—" Victoria was barely able to whisper.

"A drink? Yes, you look like you do." She poured Victoria a glass of wine and sat in front of her.

Marissa watched with great alarm as Victoria turned white as a sheet. 'Shit…she's seen Shane's place setting at the table…' Victoria had never mentioned her brother—or any other members of her family for that matter. Now that Marissa thought about it, it did seem a bit odd. Especially seeing as how Victoria and the children had taken to each other.

When Marissa realized Victoria was starting to hyperventilate, she sat down besides her and tried to comfort her. 'The poor thing.' She rubbed her back and tried to encourage her to drink some of the wine. She remembered how nervous she had been before she married Shane—she had been the outsider. But for someone of their own blood? To be having a panic attack over a simple family dinner? What exactly had Vince done to her?

Victoria tried NOT to gasp for air. Shane was on the road. Shane was NOT here. She had checked and doubled checked her sources before she ever stepped foot off the plane. She felt as if she were breathing in acid. Victoria should have listened to her brain warning her that it wasn't a good idea. While her heart ached for the little boy, her brain had tried to tell her that this little visit was very improper. She shouldn't have come, and now she was going to pay for it. 'Ohhhh God….the boys are going to hear this…' She strained to hold back the tears. She couldn't let her nephews get hurt. She just couldn't…

Marissa smiled and tried to reassure her. In her sweetest, motherly tone, she began her little "pep talk". 'I can't believe I'm having to do this…' She thought to herself as she waited for her sister in law to sip—no down the entire glass of wine in one gulp. She poured her another glass and began to "wipe" at the smudges on her face—much the same way she often did with the boys. Marissa was somewhat relieved to the sour look on Victoria's face.

"For God's sake…I'm not a baby!" Victoria swatted away at Marissa's "attempts" to make sure she was presentable. Marissa snickered, to which Victoria promptly stuck her tongue out.

"Then why, for heaven's sake are you passing out at the idea of meeting your brother? Who exactly…" she motioned to the living room where the children were occupying themselves with the television "…did you think was their Father? Hmm?"

"In _this_ family?" Victoria raised her eyebrows in question and sipped the wine this time.

Marissa was taken aback. She had lost track of the number of times Shane had given her that same response. Even the gleam in Victoria's eye reminded her of her husband. "Great. Wonderful. Apparently now I have four children to take care of instead of three…." She patted the top of Victoria's head before returning to dinner preparations.

Victoria swiped a carrot out of the bowl and snickered as Marissa tried to swat her hand. "Dear God. What _will_ the world do with the three of you running around? How will we all survive?" She couldn't help but to chuckle.

Victoria innocently shrugged. "Don't say it…don't even say it, Victoria…let me guess." She held her hands to her head as if she were trying to encourage telepathic communication. "Let me see…ah yes… it's not YOUR problem! You have people to deal with that. Am I right?" She leaned against the counter and eyed Victoria.

Victoria smirked. "Actually…I have people to _deal_ with the _people_ who will _deal_ with everyone else's problems…" Victoria grinned. Marissa promptly shoved another carrot in her mouth.

'Wow. Just. Wow.' She turned around to check the oven. It amazed her just how much Vincent Kennedy McMahon's daughter Victoria was. She didn't think Stephanie even resembled him—that much. "So you can…." Marissa wanted to know what all the talk of "coconut" was about.

Victoria simply grinned. Marissa could sense that Victoria was beginning to feel more comfortable around her, and it made her happy. Marissa had seen the effects of Victoria leaving—and with everything else going on in her loved ones lives—she prayed that this problem might resolve itself. Rolling her eyes, she put a cookie sheet full of rolls into the warm oven. Wherever Victoria currently was, judging by the grin on her face, and the way she giggled intermittedly, she was evidentially having a great time.

"I really do like coconut." Victoria grinned like an idiot as she sipped her wine. "I think…I think I'm going to have to get some lotion or something…" Victoria was sitting at the kitchen table, smack dab in the middle of her daydream. She was, in short, blissfully unaware of who was standing right behind her.

Marissa set the timer on the oven and glanced over to her sister-in-law, to catch the eye of her husband. Shane had snuck in rather quietly, and had been propped up against the doorjamb observing the two women. Arms folded across his chest, one eyebrow was cocked. On the drive home from work—he had tried to think about what he would say when he finally met Victoria. Now, he was half afraid to find out just exactly what he had walked in on.

"Uh…hi, honey" Marissa smiled nervously and blew Shane a kiss. She had walked over to greet him, only to be waved off. She got the sense that Shane wanted to see how long it would take his prodigal baby-sister to notice his presence. "This is…your…sister. She likes coconuts!" Marissa smiled brightly.

"Pina coladas!" Victoria squealed. Shane rubbed his head. A serious look passed over Victoria's face, and Shane froze. Oh, SHIT. What was he going to say? His facial expressions, never betrayed the sense of panic he was starting to feel.

"So…." Marissa cleared her throat before continuing. "…where is it exactly that you wanted to go?"

"Eh?" Victoria was having too much fun in her dream to pay attention to the real world.

Shane snickered and held his mouth. "Yup. She's Canadian." He mouthed to his wife, which quickly earned him a nasty look. "Has she lost it?" He mouthed again, then quickly shrunk back when Marissa went to pick up a butcher knife.

"You're going to go…" Marissa suggested as Victoria took another sip of wine.

"Somewhere where they've never heard of professional wrestling. A nice, private beach—with my own personal set of cabana boys…and a…." Shane's incessant snickering broke Victoria out of her trance.

Victoria was absolutely mortified. She drank the rest of her wine and stared at Marissa. "Somehow…" Victoria was thankful that the alcohol had began to dull her nerves. "Somehow I seem to know the answer to this question. Yet I find myself compelled to ask. Is _he_—standing behind me, right now?"

Marissa glanced at Shane who was too busy looking innocent to catch her eye. She looked back over at Victoria. By this point, even Marissa was having a hard time keeping her composure. Marissa couldn't answer Victoria's question. Tears started to stream down her cheeks from holding her laughter in.

Victoria shook her head. "Fine fine. That's fine." Victoria started to act like a wounded like puppy dog. "If that's how you want to treat your own sister-in-law…who came out of hiding to come—" She waved a finger in the air ala Vincent Kennedy McMahon "…straight into the fiery pits of hell…to visit YOU…that's fine…yup…" Victoria folded her hands on the table just as Shane and Marissa simultaneously LOST it.

Victoria sat at the table like a proper school girl while Shane and Marissa desperately tried to regain their composure. After several minutes the peals of laughter died down—reality took its place. As soon as Victoria sensed Shane's movement (from behind her), her eyes instantly fell to the table. She had become instantly enthralled with the grain on the wood. Victoria silently prayed that if there was a God, she'd wake up in the next instant and this would all be a horrible nightmare. 'I'd rather be anywhere but here…' Keeping her eyes lowered, she played with the edge of a placemat.

Shane's heart sank when he saw Victoria's reaction. When he allowed Declan to call her that morning, he was bracing himself to come home to an upset little boy. He never thought she'd hop on a plane to come see his little boy. Shane sighed and looked at his wife for some sort of explanation. Marissa wiped her hands on a towel and shrugged. "I'm going…to go and get the boys ready for dinner." Shane grabbed for her hand as she headed out, but she simply squeezed it before going through the doorway.

He paced a few steps, hoping that Victoria would say something—anything to get the ball rolling. 'Shit. Shit. Shitshitshit. Great job, asshole. You've got her here, now what are you going to do with her? You gotta say something to her!' As he poured himself a glass of wine, he started to feel the pressure. As a businessman, Shane O'Mac knew that a first impression was vital. Telling his father that Eric Bischoff had beat them in the ratings was nothing—absolutely nothing compared to dealing with serious shit like this.

Shane studied the bottle. He was stalling. 'What was that shit Dr. Phil said…something about not towering over people? Ok…we'll try this…' Shane would never, in a million years, admit to it, but for once, he was glad Stephanie had given him some advice. _Don't go in there and try to intimidate her for God's sake. I know it's going to be a reach for you, Shane…but try being NICE._ Shane smiled to himself as he sat down across the table from his baby sister. 'Stephanie is going to have a cow when she finds out….' Momentarily, visions of Stephanie giving birth to an actual cow flashed through his head. He quickly shook them off.

Victoria looked up at him, puzzled.

It was now or never. Shane had eye contact, and he refused to loose it. "I ah um…I didn't think you'd come." Victoria's brow furrowed even more, and Shane thought it best to explain. "I mean…given the situation—" He ran a hand through his hair. Shit. Two seconds into the conversation, and he'd managed to piss her off.

"It is absolutely NOT those boys fault." Victoria looked him dead in the eye.

Shane had his glass to his lips when she began to speak, but slowly sat it back down. He was, for perhaps the first time in his life, agape.

"I will not discuss it in front of them, and neither will you. Do I make myself absolutely clear?"

Shane was still shocked at the ferocity with which she protected HIS children.

"And that goes for everyone…and I mean absolutely everyone involved in this situation. I'm not about to sit back and watch you people put MY nephews and MY niece through this shit…am I wrong?" She waited for his response.

"Oh no, no. Of course. I absolutely agree with you." He sipped his wine. "However…now that we've taken care of that _particular_ issue, don't you think we should talk?" Shane put his feet in the water. 'Be nice my ass…she's afraid of you my ass….'

"As long as the names Vince McMahon or Bret Hart don't come up…talk away" Victoria muttered under her breath.

"I heard that!" He protested, pouring her another glass of wine.

"And I meant thhhat!" Victoria snickered, sticking her tongue out at her brother.

Shane decided to play along. "And I'm sick and tired of talking about them anyways!" He smiled brightly at his sister who was simply staring at him with a blank look on her face. "What? Heeey….I thought that one was pretty cool…" Shane pouted.

Victoria reached over and pulled the bowl of fruit out of Shane's grasp, solemnly shaking her head "NO".

Shane snickered. He finally caught on. "Speaking of which….Carlito was actually asking me about you the other day." The grin on Shane's face made Victoria sick. "And well…since the one thing we do know about you is that you like cabanas…why don't I just hook you up?" He grabbed his cell phone out of his pocket.

Victoria pulled her own phone out. "Go right ahead and see what happens. I have people of my own I can call."

The look of complete and utter seriousness caught Shane off guard. "Would you just relax for two seconds?" He put his phone away. "Jesus Christ…you're more wound up than Dad…" He grabbed a beer from the fridge and spied the look on her face. "Yes…I said it." He held his arms out so that Victoria could aim at her leisure. "Dad Dad Dad Dad Dad…and you're turning purple just like he does when he gets pissed off. You'd better get your blood pressure checked." Shane snickered slightly. Of course, this was no laughing matter, but he was her older brother after all. Wasn't it a brother's right to get a rise out of his sister?

Victoria stood up. Instantly, Shane knew he had crossed the line. "It's late. If you'll excuse me, I need to get going." Victoria went to the cabinet to retrieve her purse and Shane grabbed a hold of her wrist. Victoria's phone—still sitting on the table—started to ring. She started to lung for it, but Shane pulled her back. "Look. I don't know what the hell you think you're doing—but either you let go of me RIGHT now…" Victoria squirmed—trying to get away.

It was Shane's turn to be pissed off. He hoped Marissa would keep the kids away for a little while longer. "Victoria…first of all—calm. The. Hell. Down." He drew himself up to his full height—towering over her.

Victoria gritted her teeth. "Let me go. You're hurting me." Truth be told, Shane wasn't doing any damage—Victoria knew it. She also knew he wasn't going to hurt her. But the pressure from his grip, focused right across the scars on her wrist WAS starting to hurt… This was so the very last conversation she wanted to be having right now.

They struggled for several moments. When Shane had grabbed Victoria's wrist, her hand had been palm up. If Victoria couldn't free herself from his grip, she focused her efforts on turning her hand so that her palm would be facing down. If he saw…he'd know.

Her heart stopped when she felt her brother's fingers on the gash that ran the width of her wrist. Sure, the wound had healed—and the scar that remained was invisible to the vast majority of the world. But it would always be with Victoria. She felt him gently turn her wrist over to examine the scar, and looked away.

"What…the…hell?" Shane spoke to her in such a tone that she felt as if they were conversing about some great national secret.

Victoria shrugged and pulled away, crossing her arms in front of her chest. "Fell down the stairs when I was little…had some stitches." After all, it had worked on Uncle Shawn—why shouldn't Shane believe it as well? Victoria didn't have to explain herself to anyone. And she sure as hell wasn't about to reopen this chapter in her life.

"Bullshit." Shane had to check himself. His tone had come out so angry, it made Victoria jump. Of course Eric had let it slip one time, over beers that he had been half afraid he'd have to be the one to call Vince and tell him Victoria had-- But a drunken Eric Bischoff managed to check himself. At the time, Eric's words didn't phase Shane. But there was something in his tone that periodically haunted him. "You've got to be shitting me, Victoria." Shane went to hug her—to comfort her, and Victoria shrank away from him. This was complete and utter bullshit. So now he couldn't even hug his sister? Who so desperately needed it? "Victoria…"

"Look…just forget it. Please. I'm asking you nicely to leave it alone." Victoria hugged herself.

"I can't do that. You're my sister for Christ sakes, Victoria…Does anyone even know? Does your Uncle know about this?"

Victoria let out a half-hearted snort and shook her head.

Shane pleaded with her. "Victoria…I'm not going to hurt you. For God's Sake…I didn't bring you here for that…" Shane had to know. He had to know that the rumours he had heard—over the years were simply that.

Victoria glanced around the room. Standing her ground, she placed her hands on her hips and pushed her glasses back up the bridge of her nose. "How do you want me to answer that question Sh….?" She couldn't bring herself to address him by his first name. It still seemed very improper. "What do you want me to tell you?"

Shane leaned against the kitchen sink. "How about the godamn truth…or would you like to write me a letter instead?" He half snorted before taking a pull off his beer.

They could hear the kids coming down the hall. Shane turned to speak to his sister, but Victoria held a hand up. "Discussion is over."

"Like hell it is." Shane muttered under his breath as the kids ran into the kitchen. It was his business to know exactly what was going on with his family—this was no exception.


	16. Chapter 14

A/N: This is a long section…so I'll leave you to it! Enjoy! 

Shane leaned back in his chair. Sighing, he threw his reading glasses across his desk. "At this point, I really don't give a shit what Shawn is going to say." He barked into the cellular phone which, over the course of the last few, early morning hours had become glued to his head. He glanced at his watch. Shane sighed. So he'd most likely have to tell a few white lies to cover up his personal assistant's sudden "illness" a few days before the biggest event the industry. But somehow, that prospect didn't faze him when put alongside the idea that he would have to tell his Baby Sister she was moving to Connecticut. "And I really, really, REALLY don't give a shit what Dad has to say either. Do I need to remind you to keep your mouth shut, Wes?" Vince would find out soon enough—if he didn't know Victoria's whereabouts already.

Marissa brought him a cup of coffee and sat down in the chair opposite him, eyeing him concernedly.

Shane snapped his phone shut and tossed it on the desk along side his glasses. Marissa waited for an explanation. Shane rubbed his neck. Now he had TWO women to deal with—most likely THREE (counting Stephanie) by the end of the day. "She asleep?" He sipped his coffee.

Marissa yawned. She had checked on Victoria before she went to bed. It was after midnight when Marissa poked her head into the guest bedroom and spied her sister-in-law sitting in the middle of the bed hunched over a book. After dinner, Marissa had sensed Victoria's uneasiness, especially when the boys demanded they have a "sleepover". She had originally intended to perform the regular duties of a hostess—pointing out where the extra blankets were, acquainting her with the bathroom, but when Marissa saw the pained look of calmness in Victoria's eyes—she didn't have the heart to disturb her.

Marissa shook her head, yawning again. "When I got up to make coffee—she was still sitting up in the middle of the bed…"

Shane was completely floored. "Are you telling me…she sat up all night?"

Marissa shrugged, sipping her coffee. "Shane…" Marissa was trying to be cautious.

"Rissa…" Shane shook his head. He knew what his wife was about to say. Sitting up in his chair, he looked at her wearily. "I can not bury my Sister. I can't do it…" Shane's voice started to crack right as Marissa reached for his hand.

"Is it…is it really _that_ bad?" Marissa searched his eyes, trying to find an answer.

"…prolly worse…" Shane rested his head in his hands. Marissa gasped. "Sssssh! That's the last thing I need right now…she doesn't need to hear this"

Marissa could barely hear his voice for the later part of the statement. It was barely above a whisper. At first, she had been irritated that her husband would try to quiet her, but when the full impact of what he had just hit her—she understood. Tip toeing around his desk, she knelt down beside his chair and looked up at him—still clutching his hand. "Does your Dad know?"

_Does Dad care? That's the real question._ Shane smiled weakly and coaxed his wife up to sit on his lap. He kissed her quickly, with the hopes that'd she change the topic.

Marissa laughed, ruffling his hair. "Not going to work, Mister."

"Ah well—"Shane smirked. "It was worth a try though. You have to admit that." He hugged her tighter, kissing her again.

"Uuuuuuuuuhewwwwwwwww" Victoria stood in the doorway of Shane's office, half asleep, yawning and rubbing her eyes.

Shane and Marissa both blushed. Quickly, Marissa stole another kiss before burying her head in Shane's shoulder and giggling incessantly.

"That's just….naaaasty" Victoria shuddered.

Shane rolled his eyes. "And good morning to you, Baby Sister…." For this time in the morning, Shane was overly happy. "How very beautiful you look this morning…"

Victoria was leaning against the doorjamb with her eyes closed—trying in vain not to fall asleep standing up. "Don't think I don't know—"Victoria let out a huge yawn "—exactly what you're up to."

Shane smiled. Victoria proceeded to give him the Austin salute and close her eyes again. "Actually…thank you for reminding me. It was your Uncle "Steve" who gave me the idea…" Sugar could have been dripping off Shane's voice—it was so sweet. "And…he would like you to call him—when you get the chance, of course." Shane grinned.

Victoria stood up and eyed the grinning male McMahon. "Oh yes, yes that's right. And after he spoke to you—"Victoria smiled just as sweetly as Shane had. "He then phoned –me- and asked me to relay the message—"She cleared her throat before beginning. "—that if you screw with me and I quote "make me cry"…" Victoria mimicked the sweet tone Shane had used. "…you will wish that YOU had never been born." Victoria grinned as she strode over to Shane and kissed him on the cheek. It was brief—but Victoria caught the momentary flash of shock on her brother's face. Encouraged, she patted his head if he were a little boy and turned to stride out of the room.

"Oh! Wait! I almost forgot…" Victoria tapped a finger against her chin and whirled around to face Shane. It was all Marissa could do not to bust out laughing at the scene that was unfolding before her.

"After Uncle Steve called…then….Uncle MARK called—"Victoria was starting to have fun. "Something about…" Victoria feigned concentration—mainly for dramatic effect. "…what was it? Ah yes….Uncle Mark said that if you screwed up…you'd have a lovely tombstone pile driver waiting for you…or a choke slam—depending on how dead he feels at the time…"

Shane nodded—seemingly unphased. This only encouraged Victoria to kick it up a notch.

"Oh yes! And after Uncle Mark called…then Batista called…and well…" Victoria blushed. "…I'm a lady—so I can't really repeat ¾ of what he said…but I can assure you…it was pretty bad…" Victoria nodded enthusiastically.

"You think you're cute…don't you?" Shane knew exactly what game Victoria was trying to play, and while in truth he may have been intimidated, he would never let know that.

"Oh nooooo." Victoria shook her head. "I don't THINK I'm cute. I KNOW I'm cute." Victoria beamed. Even Shane couldn't help but snicker at his sister's ego.

"She gets it from me, you know." He proudly whispered to Marissa, who was laughing so hard tears were running down her face.

"Oh my GOD….I almost forgot!" Victoria gasped—which caused both Shane and Marissa to sit upright.

"What's wrong?" Marissa was alarmed.

"After that…you will SO never guess who I talked to!" Victoria squealed.

"Who? Who?" Marissa was intrigued—getting sucked in by the play between her husband and his sister.

"Three guesses and the first two don't count." Shane replied sarcastically, holding up three fingers. "Gee….let me guess—"Shane scratched his head.  
"Was it…." He cleared his throat. "…Uncle Shawwwwwn?" Shane imitated his sister's high pitched Stephy-esque squeal.

"Actually—"Victoria was genuinely surprised. "No, it wasn't." Surprise had left the building, leaving a huge smirk on her sleepy face.

"WHO WAS IT?" Marissa demanded.

Victoria exchanged glances with Shane. "Calm down, Rissa….yeesh…" Shane patted his wife's arm, trying to calm her down. "Just tell us Victoria…please….'for she has a heart attack." Marissa swatted Shane's arm. "Owww…"

"That's what you get…." Victoria stuck her tongue out at Shane, and Marissa giggled. "Annnnnnyways…I actually talked to one of YOUR friends, dear Brother…"

"Right. One of my friends?" At this point, Shane surmised that Victoria was running out of steam and simply making things up. "Like you know any of MY friends—"

"As a matter of fact I do. Some of them I've known longer than you." Victoria stated, matter of factly. "And this one said that if you don't leave me the hell alone—he's going to pitch you over the top rope just like he did to your little boxer friend." Victoria grinned and nodded again.

"You? Talked to?" So Victoria had managed to steal his own stable from him? Wonderful. Shane knew he'd have a hell of a time trying to work with Show next Monday night.

"Yup. Paul—"

"Paul? _Paul?_" NO one, absolutely NO ONE dared to call the Big Show by his first name. Shane had worked with the man for years, and had only, a couple years ago, been afforded the privilege of calling him "Show". How the hell had Victoria gone all the way to the top?

"Oh yeah, yeah." Victoria raised her hand, imitating Show's signature gimmick. "_That_ Paul and I had a nice, long talk. He was getting ready to go work out…"

"Oh Good Lord." Shane groaned and rubbed his head. There was MORE to this saga?

"Yeah yeah. So after I talked to _that_ Paul" She imitated Show's gimmick again and stepped further into the room, so she could clear the doorway. Victoria flung her arms out and began to imitate her own brother in law, Triple H—even down to the part where he spits out water—sans water of course. "I talked to the _other_ Paul…"

Holy SHIT. Not only did Victoria apparently get to call everyone else by their first name, she got to use HHH's real name as well? What the heelllll? The most anal retentive "I will stay in character until I die" person in the industry, and Victoria walks in, bats her baby blues, flashes a toothy grin—and voila! It's PAUL?

Even Marissa took note that Victoria was referring to everyone by their real—not stage names.

Victoria cleared her throat. "He yeah um. Paul said that you better know what the hell you're doing….or he's going to make your life a living hell. Oh yeah…and that you missed Stephie's dinner party—and she's pretty pissed off about that."

Shane eyed his sister wearily. If it wasn't for the fact that he knew 90 or more of what she had just told him was true—he'd think it was pretty damn hilarious. His Father, Vince, had told him numerous times growing up, that someday his smart-assed antics would come back to bite him in the ass. If only Vince had any idea how true that statement was…

Later that day…

Victoria sat in the sunroom, studying the cloudy horizon. From the looks of the dark sky, they were indeed in for a serious sort of storm. She shivered. Some people like ice cream, other people like football—Victoria liked stormy weather. Was it so completely wrong to love something yet still be frightened of it—at the same time?

"Shane is going to have a _talk_ with me—when it he gets homeeeee. Oooh….as if _that_ scares me." She muttered to herself. Perhaps, with any luck, the storm would arrive on schedule and Shane's efforts would be needed elsewhere. _Who exactly does he think he is, anyway? And what gives him the right to…to…_ Victoria was flustered. She couldn't make up her mind. At times, she felt as if her brother genuinely cared. Perhaps he was trying to do the right thing by her and be a real, older brother. After all, had she not been thinking about abandoning Canada, on her own? So—if Shane wanted to take it upon himself and make all the arrangements (a task Victoria had been dreading), that would be a good thing—right?

On the other hand, Victoria simply could not believe Shane's motives were purely altruistic. There had to be a catch somewhere—and Victoria didn't want to get caught up in one of her brother's—if not her FATHER's stupid schemes. The Old Man HAD to be behind this. There was no way about it. _But what would Vince gain?_ Victoria started to pace the room. _If I were in Vince's shoes…what would be my angle?_ Victoria shuddered. It was an odd feeling trying to put herself in her Father's shoes. She wasn't sure she liked it—at all.

Victoria, in her state of pacing, didn't notice the rug on the floor. Although she recovered, she nearly tripped over it. As she was righting herself, her Father's motives finally hit her. _That sneaky, little bastard. He's using me the same way Bret did._ Victoria was furious. If she had learned one thing about her Father during her little "mission" was that he was obsessed with his public image. Something, Victoria noted, that had taken a bit of a hit lately. _If I'm here—in Connecticut, it's going to look a lot better than if I'm up there._ Victoria smiled. Despite wanting to squeeze the life out of her biological Father with every ounce of strength in her being—she had to hand it to him—he wasn't stupid. _Like I'm going to play Daddy's Little Girl! That's what the Billion Dollar Princess is FOR!_ Screw Vince and his stupid plans. Victoria wasn't about to toe the "family" line—not after what she'd been put through…

Victoria had been so involved in her thoughts; she hadn't noticed Marissa walk into the room. Marissa cleared her throat. "I have a delivery here for a…Miss Victoria Hart-McMahon." Marissa announced brightly.

Victoria cringed very noticeably. _Hart-McMahon. _ Somewhere, someway Hell was freezing over. She wondered if the devil's little minions would be able to skate on the ice. One day, she'd have to ask the Undertaker. Snickering, she turned to see what the fuss was about.

The smirkish scowl on her face was gone. Victoria stood agape at the sight before her. On a side table sat an absolutely stunning display of snow white roses. Victoria couldn't help BUT to beam. She did not think she had ever seen something as beautiful—well, someone's eyes may more—but that was an entirely different—no way. Victoria put a hand over her mouth and giggled. _Don't EVEN go there._ She giggled again.

Marissa laughed. "Don't you want to see who they're from?" She waved the small card around. Truth be told, Marissa had wanted to read the card when they delivery man showed up—but that pesky little voice in her head and prevented her from satisfying her curiosity.

Victoria couldn't stop giggling—despite her own efforts to regain her composure. She knew, she absolutely knew who she **wanted** the sender to be, but her mind refused to let her hope.

"Oh come on…" Marissa pouted and fiddled with the flap of the envelope. "You have to find out who it is—so you can tell him thank you" So she was trying to get the boys to write "thank you" notes, if it worked—it worked, right?

Victoria managed to stop giggling long enough to start fiddling with her necklace instead. After he had given it to her for her birthday, Victoria caught herself, on more than one occasion holding the locket in her hand, or running it back and forth along the chain. It always made her feel better—as if he were there _with_ her? "Go ahead, Rissa…" Cautiously, Victoria reached out and fingered one of the blooms. She smiled. _He_ was so perfect…no…the roses were so perfect, she was at a loss for words.

Marissa squealed with delight and opened the note. She cleared her throat and began to read. _Dearest Bunny_ Marissa's nose crinkled. "Bunny? What kind of note IS this?"

Victoria was so absolutely happy she couldn't stand it. She sank down into the cushions of the sofa and pulled her knees to her chest. Between knees and arms and hair, which had conveniently been disheveled during the day's excursion with the boys, Victoria's face was perfectly concealed. She had to struggle for self control—so she could hear what the note said.

As Marissa continued reading the note, Victoria could have sworn she saw the author sitting at a desk and penning every single word of it.

_Dearest Bunny,_

_ I would consider it an honour if you would accompany me to the_

_ upcoming Hall of Fame ceremonies. I promise that you will never_

_ eveer regret it._

It was Victoria's turn to squeal, and so, she did. _Oh. My. GOD. Ohmygodohmygod OH MY GOD!!_ Victoria, still curled up in a ball, was literally bouncing with excitement.

Marissa was puzzled. She checked the note again—examining every inch, but there simply was not a clue as to who the sender could have been.Victoria peeked over her knees at her Sister-In-Law. Despite not being able to see the rest of her face, Marissa could tell by the way Victoria's eyes sparkled, that she was grinning from ear to ear. Marissa smiled and let out a small giggle of her own. Victoria's newfound giddiness reminded Marissa of how she felt when Shane _finally_ showed an interest. "You _know_ who it is, don't you?" Marissa eyed Victoria, trying to conjure up the "Big Sister" stare Stephanie used when she wanted information.

Victoria, still grinning from ear to ear managed to yelp out a small "nooooo", which just happened to morph into another peal of giggles, before vehemently shaking her head.

_Wait until I have to tell Shane his Baby Sister is in love with a FRUIT! Bunny? What kind of… _Damn. The giggling was infectious. Soon, Marissa found herself in the midst of her very own giggle fit. Suddenly, Marissa gasped. Victoria shot up from the couch to come to Marissa's aide.

"What's wrong? What's wrong? Are you ok?" Victoria was genuinely concerned.

Marissa, as wide eyed as if she just found out she was going to have an audience with the Queen of England, turned to Victoria and grabbed her hands. "What. Are. You. Going. To. WEAR? It's not that far off!" Simultaneously, both women squealed as if they were teenagers getting ready to go to Prom.

"What. AM. I. GOING. TO DO??" On the verge of hyperventilating, Victoria was frantic. She paced a few steps, and ran back to Marissa, grabbing her by the shoulders and shaking her—as if she were a rag doll. "I KNOW!! I KNOW!!" Marissa looked up at Victoria and grinned.

"WE'RE GOING SHOPPING! WE'RE GOING SHOPPING! WE'RE GOING SHOPPING!" That's exactly what Shane McMahon heard when he walked in his front door. It didn't take him very long to discover from whence the chants came. As he walked into the back room of his estate, he couldn't believe his eyes. Between all the hugging and the dancing and the jumping up and down and the "shopping" chants—he was starting to get dizzy. And then it happened. The two crazed women descended upon HIM and tried to pull him into their psychotic shopping dance. Damn, not even Stephanie got THIS excited over shopping.

So Victoria kissed him on the cheek. She smiled and hugged on him, too! Now, he'd be an ass if he didn't play along—at least a bit. _I may hop around a bit—hell, I do it in the ring—what's the difference?_ Shane pretended he was in the ring and hopped around the room with the women for a few moments. Even if he wanted to, he would not be able to get a word in edge wise. Hell, he couldn't understand half of what the women were saying anyways. The only _empire_ he knew anything about was the one he'd take over some day. How that word applied to dresses—he didn't even want to find out.

Marissa reached around him to hold Victoria's hair up. "So…I think we should have them do it like this…don't you think so, Shane?"

Shane was dumbfounded. He had no clue to what he had just walked in on—sans the apparent shopping trip, let alone what they were talking about.

Victoria clucked her tongue. "I dunno…I'm not sure…I don't think that will make my neck look good…"

Shane's head went back and forth. From speaker to speaker. Both women had stopped speaking—thank God, but were now focused on HIM. Shane put some distance in between himself and the ladies. He knew from experience that these types of conversations never had a happy ending. "I ah um…do you mind telling me why exactly your neck has to look good?" He folded his arms across his chest and cocked an eyebrow. Marissa punched his arm—not enough to seriously hurt him, but he winced, nonetheless. "What the hell was _that_ for?" Shane rubbed his shoulder.

"Your Sister has a date! Haven't you been listening to ANYTHING we've been saying?" Marissa didn't have to say "duuuuuh"; the effect was the same without the colloquial expression.

Marissa and Victoria went back to their preparations. Victoria squealed. "We'll have to go to Sephora…I can't wait to try some of that new shim—"

At first, the significance of what his wife had told him hadn't registered. "Oh woah. Woah. Woah. Back up a minute…" Both women rolled their eyes and turned their attention back to Shane. Shane pinched the bridge of his nose. "You, Wife of mine…and You, Baby Sister—"He pointed at each of them. "This is not how I left you two when I went to work this morning. Especially _you_…"Victoria was being particularly singled out. "Now…would somebody mind telling me what the hell is going on?" Shane eyed the two women as they both began to ramble, semi hysterically at the same exact time. Feeding off each other's excitement, the pair were getting louder and louder.

After several gestures towards the bunch of flowers sitting on the table, Shane walked over a picked up the note. He read it a couple of times just to make sure he was right. "Who the hell is _Bunny_?" Shane was utterly disgusted. That wasn't a term of endearment, it was a barn-yard animal! He eyed the two women—all hope of a verbal response gone.

Marissa pointed at Victoria who was hopping up and down and raising her hand as if she were a school girl waiting to answer a question the teacher had asked. _Oh Christ._ Shane sank down into a nearby chair. _I should have known._

"Ohhhh….I know!! We'll call STEPHIE! She'll know what to do!!" Marissa squealed happily—and another round of giggle fits started.

Shane instantly jumped up from his resting spot and started shouting. "NO…NO…NO!! NO! We're not going to call Stephie!" He smiled brightly at the two women. Two of them was hard enough—but _three_? It'd drive him insane. Especially when two out of the three were HIS Sisters? He'd rather share a room with Umaga, thank you very much.

"He won't be able to resist you! This is so exciting!"

Shane frowned. Just who was the "he" his Wife was talking about? "Ohhh hell no. There will be none of that…" Shane shook his head. "Just who exactly is this from, hmmm?" He waved the note in front of the women. Shane wished he'd asked Vince to come to dinner like he planned. _That_ would have fun. Perhaps he'd call his Dad and ask him to desert. Make _him_ deal with the Barbie twins.

Neither one of them spoke, shaking their heads instead. "It's—it's…not signed…I dunno!" Victoria tried to play innocent. Tried being the opportunistic word.

"Uh huh. Riiight" Shane rolled his eyes. "And just what makes you think you should actually go with this…this…it could be a midget for all I know!"

Victoria folded her arms across her chest. "It. Is. NOT. A BLOODY MIDGET, SHANE."

"And what if it were? Do you have a problem with midgets now…Shane?" Marissa contemplated making Shane sleep on the couch for that remark.

"I just….how…how do I know if this…this…scumbag is suitable? How do I know that he's not some psycho fan boy in the basement of his mother's house, living off Ho-Ho's and Ding-Dong's with a Victoria McMahon shrine next to his platform bed?"

Victoria and Marissa exchanged glances, and promptly turned their focus back to Shane. "Wow, Shane. Just….wow." Victoria was speaking. "You really need to lay off the chair shots…"

"I don't like this." Shane shook his head. "It's not going to happen. I won't allow it. The slimeball didn't even sign his name! Do you have any idea just how dangerous this is, Victoria?" Shane was beginning to get angry with his sister. He had planned on having this "conversation" with her later, when everything had quieted down, but it just seemed like a natural segway.

_Dangerous? Not in the way you're thinking, brother._ "Shane…" She noticed his attitude soften towards her a bit when she called him by his name. "He is NOT a psycho fan boy…I don't even HAVE any psycho fan boys…"

_Yet._ Shane wasn't convinced. "Then just who the hell is he? Huh? You think I'm going to let _you_ attend a function like this with just…_anyone?_"

"Well…I think that over the last 25 years I've handled myself pretty well." This after-school special crap was beginning to irritate Victoria. "Do you think I'd go out with just _anyone_?"

Shane looked at her eyes and swallowed his heart. How was he supposed to smash her newly found happiness and point out that everyone and their brother would be trying to take advantage of her. Especially now?

"And even if you DID know who it was…what difference would that make?" She looked at him, wide eyed.

_His ass would be fired._ At this point, Shane knew two things. One, Victoria obviously knew who the mystery man was. And two, she wasn't about to tell _him_. _It better not be Copeland—that womanizing man-whore._ "Is it…" he massaged his temples. "Is it at least someone I know? Someone…." _Who hasn't slept with half the Divas?_ He added silently.

Victoria glanced at Marissa who silently urged her to give her brother this little bit of information. She sighed. Victoria was used to being independent. She didn't see just why it was any of Shane's business, but for the sake of domestic tranquility, she would give up this little bit of information—in the hopes it would settle her brother's concerns.  
"Shane. Just. Don't worry, ok? He's a really good friend, and he's been perfectly gentlemanly towards me. He has to be there for work anyways, so what's the big deal?"

_God. I'm too damn old for this._ He studied Victoria, who was, despite the turn in conversation, still as happy as she was—naive. Victoria wasn't Stephanie. How true that statement was. He knew it wouldn't take much for one of the guys to flatter her right into… Shane shuddered. He didn't even want to think about what could happen. Right now, the only thing that mattered to him was what he could do to prevent it.


	17. Chapter 15

_I can't believe HIM! I told him repeatedly I wasn't going in there!_ Victoria fumed in the back of limo. They were stopped at the main entrance of WWE HQ. Victoria checked her watch again. She stomped her foot into the upholstery. Shane KNEW she didn't feel comfortable sitting in the parking lot, let alone having to physically walk inside the building to retrieve him. When she finally gave in and agreed to pick him up (on the way to the airport), he had promised her faithfully he'd be waiting for the car.

Now, Victoria would have to brave the enemy line and extract her brother—or they were going to be seriously late—private plane, or not. Victoria got out of the car slamming the door behind her. She made a conscious decision to feed off the anger she felt for her brother. It would give her just enough courage to go in there, do what she had to and promptly get the hell out.

"Excuse me, ma'am…can I see some id?"

Victoria eyed the middle-aged security guard. Had he not spent the last fifteen minutes watching the limo parked right outside his door? "Excuse me?" _I so do not have time for this._

"I said—I NEED to see some ID." The security guard was starting to cop an attitude with her.

Victoria handed him her Canadian driver's license—Shane had taken everything else. Victoria tapped her heels on the concrete as the inept security guard studied the card.

"And your business?"

Victoria rolled her eyes and grabbed her license. "I don't NEED a reason to walk into _this_ building."

"Uh huh. I see. Well, I'm sorry—you're going to have to wait outside."

_Like hell I am Bubba—technically, I own your ass._ "Look, Bubba—"

"The name is Ray, Lady—"The guard protested.

"Amongst other things _Bubba_, I suggest that from now on, you don't address me in that manner…do I make myself perfectly clear?"

"Whatever, _Lady_"

Victoria was contemplating how many different ways she could make "Bubba" suffer when she was accosted from inside the building.

"You idiot! Do you have any idea _who_ this is? Show some respect!" A male voice yelled at the guard as he pulled her inside the building. Victoria managed to glance behind her and smirk at the guard as she was being lead away. "I—I am so absolutely sorry about that, Miss McMahon." Victoria's escort, in between prophetic apologies over the guard's behavior, was on the verge of tears.

Victoria glanced to her side to determine just who her savior was. Coachman. _Shit._ "I….thank you…for that." Victoria smiled politely.

Coachman looked as if he were about ready to pass out right there—in the middle of the lobby. Before Victoria was able to make her way to the reception desk, Coach had a hold of her hand and was shaking it rather violently. "No! No! I should be thanking you! It's just…such a honour to have you here!" They had just arrived at the receptionist desk when Coach started to kiss Victoria's hand. "We are all—" Coach stammered. "We are all just so happy to have you here!"

Victoria exchanged glances with the receptionist, who had dropped the phone when she saw the sight in front of her. "Ooook, now. It's…nice to see you too!" Victoria patted Coach on the head before turning her attention to the receptionist. She knew that if she wasn't careful, Coach would be following her around like a puppy.

"May I…help you?" Victoria could tell the receptionist was still half distracted. Glancing behind her, she noticed that Coach was STILL there. She rubbed her head.

"Good afternoon. I'm here to see Shane McMahon—can you tell me where he is, please?"

"YOUR BROTHER!" Coach sounded like an excited seven year old waiting for Santa Clause.

Victoria leaned on the counter and tried to cover her eyes. "And where can I get a good drink?" She muttered under her breath, which elicited a giggle from the receptionist.

"One second please." The receptionist smiled and picked up her phone.

Victoria turned around and clapped her hands. "Very good!" She smiled brightly. God, she was going to have to ditch this butt-kisser, and quickly. "Do you know where Shane is?" Coach smirked, and Victoria held in a groan. He went from simpering ass-kisser, to wanna-be Rico Suave in less than two point five seconds. "You know, Coach…"

"Please…call me Jonathan…" Coach leaned on the counter, inches away from her.

Victoria wanted to hurl. "Coach…I would be so grateful if you would go and tell my brother that I'm waiting for him…would you do that? For _meee_?" She smiled as prettily as she could.

Coach immediately puffed himself up. "Of course I could, Miss McMahon. You….wait right here and I'll be back…" In the course of running to the elevators, he nearly tripped when he looked back to smile at Victoria.

"Miss…McMahon?" The receptionist seemed a little unnerved when she realized just who was speaking to her.

"Hmm…yes?"

"I just got off the phone with your…brother's office. They said he's in the gym." She pointed to a nearby hallway. "It's right down that corridor, to the right…would you like me to ring?"

"Oh no no. That's quite all right. I'll go get him. Have a pleasant afternoon…" Victoria greeted the receptionist again, before heading off in search of her brother.

After what seemed like an eternity of walking, Victoria finally came to a door labeled, you guessed it, GYM. Taking a quick glance in the glass of one of the many framed pictures, she checked her reflection over. After running a hand over the skirt of her dress, she tip toed in. Victoria stopped and listened. Except for a little music in the background, everything else was silent.

Victoria quietly stepped inside and glanced around. She could have sworn she was back in Calgary, inside the Dungeon. Well, except for the fact that this gym was far larger, had much better lighting, and was better stocked than the one inside her grandparent's basement. As she slowly made her way around the gym, Victoria was so absorbed in taking in all the little details of her new surroundings, that she didn't notice the lone figure standing in the middle of the ring.

At first, he too had been absorbed in his thoughts. Chris had to catch a plane to Florida later that evening. He knew that this would be his only chance to be alone, and gather his thoughts before the biggest night of his career—Wrestlemania. He and his opponents were supposed to meet up later that evening to discuss possible movesets. Chris was just in the middle of one of his planned sequences when he saw her walk into the room—out of the corner of his eye.

_To hell with trying to concentrate now._ He smiled as he watched her. Victoria obviously didn't realize he was there—and for once, Chris was thankful. He was happy to be able to stand there and watch her without having to think. Chris had originally told the guys he was going to skip the afternoon's workout, and take an earlier flight home—but he thanked the Gods he hadn't. What an unexpected…and pleasant surprise this was.

"Well…well…well…" Chris smirked. He would relish every second of catching Victoria "off guard". "I know you threatened to sick _Daddy_ on me—but don't you think you're taking it to the extreme, Princess?" Victoria was standing with her side to him. Chris took his time looking her up and down. _Damn, she's wearing a dress?_ His jaw dropped. Chris had never realized just exactly how feminine Victoria's body was. _Where exactly did THOSE come from?_

Victoria cleared her throat. She had glanced up at Chris and caught him staring at her chest. She felt as if her entire face was on fire, and apparently, from the looks of things, he did too.

"Looks like somebody else is _all grown up_ as well…" Chris snickered. He was under the assumption he had said that under his breath, but Victoria caught it. Instantly her face turned a brighter shade of red.

Victoria went to join him in the ring. "Shut. The. Hell. Up."

"Hey! That's my line!" Chris held the rope for her so she could enter.

"Don't get used to this whole--dress thing." While Victoria was shuddering, Chris stole another glance at her.

Chris laughed nervously and ran a hand through his hair—despite not having a ponytail to "adjust" anymore.

"I just…I just…" Victoria was so flustered she was stammering.

Chris took a couple of steps closer to Victoria and shoved his hands into his pockets. "Aww….it's ok Princess" He beamed. "I'm not going to bite…" _Yet._

"Oh I know. I'm still waiting for Sunday when you bite…the dust…" Victoria gave off a smirk of her own.

Chris felt his palms getting sweaty. "You'd like that…wouldn't you? Then you could have me allllll to yourself?"

"Oh please. And just what the hell would I do with you?" Victoria was falling back into her groove. "I can't deal with your sorry butt when I have a hot date…you're just going to have to find somebody else, ChrisTOFUer" _Take THAT!_

Despite being absolutely thrilled at Victoria's admission of his "hotness", Chris wouldn't give her the satisfaction of admitting he was the one who sent the flowers. "Oh really?" He folded his arms over his chest. "And just exactly WHO is this hot date of yours? Perhaps I need to have a talk with him…"

_Are you kidding me?_ Victoria eyed him. It was SO obvious exactly who her "mystery date" was. "Like you don't know…" Victoria snickered, shuffling her feet nervously.

Chris somehow managed to remain completely serious—not giving anything away. "Look…I don't know what these people have been doing to you—"

"You are such an ass, Christopher…" Victoria shook her head and looked down, studying her shuffling feet.

"And I missed you too, but that's beside the point." Chris continued, never skipping a beat.

Victoria continued in the same manner, nervously tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.

"You know" Chris was now only inches away from Victoria. "Not everyone can be a paragon of virtue like yours truly—you just can't trust these guys…"

"Paragon of virtue? _Paragon of Virtue?_" Victoria giggled as she looked at him.

"Yess?" Chris tried to egg Victoria on.

"Oh no. I'm not going there." Victoria shook her head and leaned into the corner of the ring. "I have enough problems right now…"

Chris snorted. "Oh I know. Like getting ready for that _hot_ date of yours."

"Awwwww….." She reached up and rubbed his cheek. "Why Chrissypoo…if I didn't know any better, I'd say you were a tad bit jealous…"

Chris smiled at her sarcastically. "Not on your life, Sister. I've had experience when it comes to the women in your family…you're nothing but trouble—"

Victoria cut him off. "With a capital T! And don't you forget it, either!" She poked his chest. She forgot however, to put her hand back down at her side, and it was currently resting on his chest.

Chris shook his head and grinned. "What are you going to do? Sick your Daddy on me?"

"I just might actually do that."

The song that was playing came to an end. As the traffic report played, the two were brought back to reality and immediately put a little space in between themselves. Chris shifted his weight from one leg to the other. He grinned to himself and decided that he liked it when Victoria rested her hand on his chest like _that_. Chris wondered what it would feel like to lay next to her, with her hand in the same position. He quickly shook _those_ thoughts out of his head.

"So…" He ran his hand through his hair—again.

"Yes, Jerky?" Victoria examined her fingernails, rather demurely.

Chris grinned. "Once again, _my_ line. Are you loosing your touch, Junior?"

Victoria snorted. "Like there's a chance in hell of that ever happening…"

"What have they done with my sweet, innocent, Bunny?" Chris sounded wounded. "Or should I just leave out the sweet and innocent part?" Chris snickered.

Victoria rolled her eyes. "Laugh it up, ChrisOfur. I'm not the one who runs around talking about myself in the third person…" She eyed him.

Chris saw the look in her eye and knew he was licked—temporarily. "I'm scarred for life, Bunny." He grabbed her hand and held it over his heart. "You have completely and utterly broken my poor heart." Chris could tell by the look in Victoria's eyes that she wasn't buying a word he was saying. He could also tell, however, that he was starting to get under her skin. _If you only knew how much I love looking into your eyes like this._ Chris sighed, still holding onto her hand. Chris felt Victoria relax a bit. He thought he would die of shock when she genuinely smiled at him.

_Wise men say, only fools rush in,_

"Wow" Victoria whispered. When Victoria noticed the puzzled look on Chris' face, she felt compelled to explain. "This song—I absolutely love it. I've never really heard it played on the radio before…" Magically, Michael Buble's rendition of "Can't Help Falling in Love" was just starting on the radio.

_But I can't help falling in love with you._

"Then there's only one thing to do." Victoria went weak at the knees at the sound of Chris using his, what she had deemed "the adorable Chrissy voice". Gently, he pulled her away from her spot in the corner of the ring.

"What?" Victoria could feel her heart skipping beats.

"May I have…this dance?" Chris said quietly, while offering her his other hand.

Victoria prayed that Chris didn't notice she was grinning like an idiot as she gave him her other hand. At first, the sensation of being in his arms was quite intimidating to Victoria. _Don't make a fool out of yourself _, was the only thought running through her head. _Where the hell am I supposed to put my hands?_ Victoria was unaccustomed to slow dancing—let alone slow dancing with CHRIS. Quickly, she tried to remember every romantic movie she had ever seen. She bit down on her lip—hard as she slid her hands onto his shoulders.

_Shall I stay—would it be a sin?_

_ If I can't help falling in love with you._

When he was a little boy, Chris thought that his Mother's Apple Pie had the best smell in the entire world. Chris relished in the thought that he had never been so happy to be so completely wrong—in his entire life. Sure—girls usually smelled nice and all, and there was a time when he had been fond of the stuff his ex wore. But, that feeling was nothing, absolutely nothing to the feeling he had when he caught a whiff of Victoria's perfume. It was intoxicating.

Victoria giggled sweetly. Chris had subconsciously flexed his shoulder muscles at her touch. He made the mistake of looking down at Victoria, only to find a pair of clear, crystal-blue eyes looking back at him. _She'll look away. She always does._ Chris returned the look, willing her NOT to look away. It nearly broke his heart. He could see all the hurt, all the pain, all the sadness, all the care that this soul held. At that moment, Chris wanted nothing more than to make it all disappear.

_Like a river flows_

_ Surely to the sea_

_ Darling so it goes_

Instinctively, Chris tightened his grip on her. It seemed second nature that he should run his finger tips along her spine. He felt the shiver follow the path his fingers took. _Some things are meant to be._ Slowly Chris leaned down to be closer to Victoria. As far as he was concerned, he couldn't be close enough. "You ok?" He half whispered, not wanting to break the moment.

"Mmm." That was the only reply he got as Victoria angled her head towards his, so that her cheek rested on his. Chris swallowed—hard. A stranger could have walked in the room and asked him his name, and Chris wouldn't have had a clue. The only thing he could focus on was, at the present, right there in HIS arms—and that's exactly where she belonged.

_Take my hand—take my whole life too,_

_ For I can't help falling in love with you._

Victoria closed her eyes. She wanted to remember every single feeling, every single sensation she felt. Victoria couldn't imagine anyone else she would want to share this moment with except Chris. Her heart told her that this was where she truly belonged. She could only pray that God would show his mercy on her, and that Chris might see her in the same light. Victoria shivered at the thought that Chris might not actually care about her in the same way she cared for him.

"Sweetie, what's wrong?" Chris, still speaking lowly, was concerned.

Victoria picked her head up and looked at him. She opened her mouth to speak, but no words came forth. Gently, she shook her head. Victoria could feel the invisible force pushing them together. She blinked, and they were suddenly nose to nose. "nothing…" She whispered, breathlessly. Just as Chris head started to tilt, she felt her own mirroring his motions. Victoria closed her eyes, her heart beating so loudly in her ears, she thought her ear drums would burst. She willed herself to breathe steadily. She could feel his presence. He was only a fraction of a millimeter away.

"VICTORIA! VICTORIA! WHERE THE HELL DID YOU GO TO?"

Victoria winced. "Godamn Buzz Kill" she muttered under breath. Shane had to pick NOW to show up?

_Oh that fucker is going to pay._ Chris had been waiting for an excuse to beat the living daylight out of the "Boy Wonder" and now he had it. _First Vince, then him?_ Chris was beginning to wonder if Victoria's male relatives were conspiring against him.

"GODDAMNIT VICTORIA! THIS ISN'T FUNNY!"

Victoria shook her head sadly and backed away from Chris. "I gotta…"

Chris heart ached at the pained expression on her face. "It's okay." He went to hold down the ropes for her—again. "After all, we can't keep the Boy Blunder waiting…can we?"

Victoria chuckled half heartedly as she exited the ring. "Well…we _could_—but I've got to spend the next four hours in the same plane with him…"

Chris stood at the edge of the ring and watched her as she started to make her way out of the gym. "Oh…I get it. I get it now! It's all about that _hot_ date you have!" Chris called after her brightly. Chris could hear her giggling as she waved to him from the door. He stood there, his gaze transfixed on the door, for several minutes after she had disappeared.


	18. Chapter 16

A/N: A huge thank you to all of you who have stayed with me! Thank you for your reviews!!

The edge of the hotel bathtub felt like a piece of ice against Victoria's flushed face. Victoria sat on the bathroom floor, huddled against the side of the tub. Beads of sweat ran down her face and stung her eyes. She cried. Her life was turning into a living nightmare. Her sobs conjured up another wave of nausea. Victoria barely managed to make it to the toilet before she was sick—again. She resumed her position against the side of the tub, wrapping her arms around herself. _It hurts so bad._ Physically, mentally, emotionally—how many other types of pain could she be experiencing at once?

_Too much. It's too much. _Shutting her eyes, Victoria choked on her own sobs.

_What plane did you think we were going on, Victoria?_ Shane had taken her concerns with a grain of salt. Did Shane not understand just how much Victoria didn't want to be around her Father? When they pulled up, and Victoria spotted the corporate jet, she tried to make Shane understand just exactly how she felt. And what did she get for her efforts? A hasty lecture about "doing what you have to do—and it not always being easy".

Ok. Fine. So once again Victoria was forced to rise to the occasion—which is exactly what she did. Even Shane commented about how well she handled herself. Victoria was so happy at Shane's compliment that she momentarily forgot herself and managed to have a conversation with her Stepmother, Linda. A very short one, but a conversation none the less. By the end of the plane ride, Victoria had half forgotten that the cause of all her problems was sitting only a few feet away from her. Vince hadn't bothered to speak to Victoria, and she hadn't bothered to speak to him. Victoria was beginning to believe that if she could sit across the isle from her Father and completely ignore him to the point where she forgot he was there (for four hours, mind you) that she just might be able to do this after all.

"So…I'm thinking Pizza...what do you like on yours?" Shane chatted with Baby Sister as they walked across the tarmac to the main airport terminal.

Victoria wrinkled her nose. "Pepperoni, I guess. Although…you know…Stephie says that I shouldn't be eating a lot of salt…something about dehydration…" Victoria would have killed for an icy cold bottle of water. Even though their plane had landed after sundown, Florida was still hot as hell.

Shane chuckled half-heartedly. "Stephie says…a _lot_ of things…"

Victoria stuck her tongue out at Shane and punched him playfully.

"Owww!" Shane pouted rubbing his shoulder.

"Just be thankful there weren't any TV monitors around…I might have been forced to go _Bret Hart_ on you" Victoria wiggled her eyebrows. Just then, Linda stepped between them, putting one arm around Victoria and the other around Shane.

"Children. Children…please." Linda smiled. "Do I have to put you in time out?" Linda eyed each of them.

"SHE STARTED IT!" Shane hollered, pointing at Victoria.

"OH! I so did not!" Victoria gasped. "I am SO going to tell your wife!" Victoria reached behind Linda's back and whacked Shane upside the head.

"Moooooooom" Shane whined. "She hit me!"

"Oh for the love of—"Linda shook her head. "Why do I feel like I've had this conversation—before?" Victoria sniffled rather dramatically and Linda hugged her with the arm she had around her shoulders. "Shane." She eyed him rather crossly. "I know I've said this to you before, ok? But would you **please** be nice to your sister? **Both** of them?" Victoria was still sniffling. Linda kissed her forehead, and Victoria smirked at Shane behind her back. "And you…" She turned her head to Victoria. "Don't forget…we have that appointment tomorrow morning…"

"Ok, Mommy…" Victoria kissed Linda's cheek. Linda was absolutely beaming as she fell back to rejoin Vince—who had witnessed the entire display.

The group waited for security to open the door to the main terminal. Shane looked down at his side and eyed Victoria. "Ok, Mommyyyyy…." He mimicked Victoria's earlier words, under his breath. In reality, Shane was absolutely stunned at the term of endearment he had just heard his sister use towards his Mother. "And just what exactly is this little appointment you have with your Mommmmy?'

Victoria rolled her eyes. "Somebody's jealoussssss…." She batted her eyelashes at her Big Brother. "Did you not just tell me you wanted me to fit into the family?" She pouted.

"Yeah…right." Shane rolled his eyes. He saw Victoria turn on the "puppy dog" charm. He couldn't help but to melt—a little. "And don't you go thinking that's going to work on me—I invented it!" He ruffled her hair.

Victoria gasped. "You are SO going to get it, Shane _Brandon_ McMahon." Shane snickered, which only outraged Victoria even more.

Linda hollered from behind them. "Guys…for the love of God…can't you two wait to kill each other until you get to the hotel?" Linda was fighting to take this seriously. She watched Shane and Victoria exchange sour faces at each other. "Do I have to send your _Father_ up there?" Linda snickered when Shane and Victoria literally jumped away from each other like oil and vinegar.

Vince checked his phone—again, as everyone in their group laughed.

"You know, Vince…" Linda spoke lowly as the first part of their group was let into the building "you could lighten up—just a bit…"

Vince shook her off as his phone started to ring. "I'm not talking about this right now…" He opened his phone. "I have business to worry about…"

And then it happened. All hell broke loose. One second, Victoria was standing outside with Shane, conducting normal brother-sister banter and the next movement, when she stepped into the airport; she was confronted with a sea of microphones, and cameras and flashing light bulbs. Pandemonium personified. Victoria panicked and reached back for Shane's hand. He wasn't there. She was surrounded by a sea of media. Victoria looked around her—trying to spot someone in their group.

"There she is!!" Victoria heard the reporter's cries as they crushed around her. She put her arms up to block them. Grabbing hold of one of the cameras, she managed to shove the reporter just enough to glance back at the doors she had just entered.

Victoria caught Shane's eye. They were surrounding him too. "GET HER OUT OF HERE DAMMIT!" He was screaming at the few WWE bodyguards they had brought with them on the plane. Victoria could see Shane pointing in her direction. Somehow, during the onslaught, she had been separated from the rest of the party, and security had lost sight of her.

"Owwww!" Victoria yelled as one of the cameramen bumped into her head with the camera he way carrying.

"VICTORIA! GO! NOW!" Shane was screaming at the top of his lungs.

"BACK THE HELL UP!" Several large men, dressed in WWE Polos had been shoving members of the media left and right and had finally made their way to her. The next thing Victoria knew, she was cuddled up in the middle of a walking huddle, and, despite not being able to see anything except the occasional microphone, or flash of a camera, she guessed that they were making their way through the airport. One of the men leaned down to speak to her "Keep your head down, kiddo…we're almost there…" Victoria did as she was told. She was a bit comforted by the fact that she recognized the man's voice. So, Sgt. Slaughter wasn't exactly the MI-5 of WWE security, but he was pretty good to have around.

"A comment, please! SLAUGHTER...WHAT'S YOUR REACTION TO VINCE MCMAHON HAVING ANOTHER KID? HOW DO YOU THINK IT HAPPENED?" Suddenly, the crowd went silent.

"Are you kidding me?" Slaughter laughed at the crowd as they moved through the door. Even Victoria couldn't help but to chuckle.

"VICTORIA!! VICTORIA!! DO YOU HAVE ANYTHING YOU WANT TO SAY TO YOUR UNCLE BRET?"

Victoria squirmed to poke her head through the sea of bodyguards—which didn't work very well. With much effort, she managed to stick an arm through the guys and hold up TWO fingers. Victoria heard the guys snicker while the rest of the reporters tried to decipher her meaning. They finally reached the waiting limo.

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" Victoria heard one of the reporters closest to her ask someone when it was her turn to get into the back of the limo. She looked up at Sgt. Slaughter innocently, who just shook his head.

"I'm not having any part in this…" Slaughter turned his head deliberately and Victoria quickly gave the reporters the Austin salute before being shoved into the back of the limo.

Victoria, still huddled on the bathroom floor, took her glasses off and put them on the countertop above her. She collapsed, her head laying on the side of the tub. _I can't do this anymore. God, make it stop, please._ Vaguely, she could hear the metallic clang of her cellular phone. As it was, Victoria struggled with every breath. Despite being in the other room, feet away from her, the short distance seemed like an eternity to her. She gave up.

_Why? Why couldn't he just leave me alone?_ Victoria crumpled over, holding her sides. Victoria felt as though she had just drunk a gallon of acid. Her mouth, throat and chest were on fire. Physically, she felt like she had been kicked in the stomach. There wasn't a part of her body that wasn't in pain. _The Ultimate Betrayal. _Victoria broke out in a fresh round of sobs. Now, to top it all off, she added stupid to her list.

Victoria hated herself. She hated herself for many reasons, and now, she hated herself for not seeing this coming. During the ride from the airport to the hotel, Victoria had managed to learn, via local news radio, that dear old Uncle Bret had bypassed the Canadian media—going straight to Florida. The media recognized it as a blatant attempt to spoil the Wrestlemania festivities. But did that stop them from descending upon her like a pack of wild vultures?

There was no doubt about it. The infamous Vincent Kennedy McMahon did indeed have a bastard child. Thankfully, the bodyguards that made it to the car with her turned the radio off when that type of talk started up. It should have helped—but it didn't. Victoria had known—had always known exactly what she was, but hearing the words ripped through her soul like a hot knife through butter.

They finally arrived at the hotel the WWE had rented out. If 100 reporters met them at the airport, there were at least double the amount waiting for their arrival. Not to mention the couple hundred fans that had assembled amongst the media. Victoria looked around and started to panic. She watched out the window as the Orlando Police Department showed up and started to move the crowd back.

"Please…just take me somewhere else…" She begged Sgt. Slaughter.

"Nonsense. You'll be fine." He smiled at her, reassuringly. "Just…put this over your head so the flashes don't hurt your eyes…" He put a jacket over her head. "Don't pay any attention to them. You just stay close to me, and we'll get you inside, ok?"

Victoria nodded weakly, her head safely hidden under the jacket.

Allthough the trip inside the hotel had been a little less chaotic than the one through the airport, the questions being shouted were more vulgar. Victoria had expected the usual "You screwed Bret!" chants, but was downright appalled when the "You're a bastard!" chants started. The entire way in to the hotel, the guys kept on telling her to ignore them, however, Victoria found that to be next to impossible.

They were inside the hotel now. Victoria, from under her little tent, could hear the guys talking to what was seemingly "hotel security". So perhaps there was a small perk, after all. Her room had been prepared, and she was allowed to bypass the check-in desk. She wasn't sure where she was, but guessed they were leading her to the elevators. Familiar voices called her name, but she preferred to stay "hidden"—for the time being.


	19. Chapter 17

A/N: Once again, a huge thank you to everyone who's taken the time to read and/or review. And a very special thank you to my Special Helpers! ;) You know who you are… As always, enjoy!!

"Holy Shit. So it's really true?" The gigantic man known to the world at large as the "Big Show" Shoved himself into the booth where his colleagues were gathered. This action, of course, forced the remaining gentlemen to perform the delicate task of squishing themselves together, all while attempting to make sure their drinks didn't end up in their laps.

Shane took a drag off of his deer and waited for someone else to answer his friend's question. When he first arrived at the hotel and Edge bombarded him with the same question, he nearly took the Blond Canadian's head off. Couldn't people mind their own business? Shane snorted under his breath. Too bad it hadn't of been Vince. Oh how he'd love to ring his father's neck right about now. Coward. Vince, who had been brought to the hotel in yet another car, had apparently snuck in the back entrance, and was making it a point not to stay the hell away from everyone and everything.

"I just. I can't believe it. She doesn't act like any of you—" Show had given up on getting any answers from the guys, and was addressing Shane directly.

Shane felt Show's gaze and briefly looked up before taking another swig of beer.

"Thank God." Shawn Michaels muttered under his breath before motioning to the bar tender that they were in need of another round of drinks.

"You know, Shane…" Show waited until Shane met his gaze. "Your Father is an asshole." The simplicity and sheer truth of Show's statement caught everyone's attention.

"Tell me something I do not know, Show…" Shane said dryly before raising his bottle along with the guys.

It was then that HHH walked into the bar. Shawn waved him over. "He really kicked you out?" Shawn asked Shane, in a low voice, while HHH was making his way over.

"Uh huh." Shane finished that beer off and went for another. "Well actually…it was more along the lines of Stephanie decreeing that her little sister needed her & I would only make things worse…" Shane shrugged.

"Your Father is an asshole, Shane." HHH said simply, plopping down next to Shawn Michaels. This, of course, elicited a snicker from both Michaels and Show.

"What is that, exactly? A new form of greeting?" Shane answered sarcastically, which all three men laughed at.

The table fell silent for several awkward moments. Everyone, including Shane, turned their attention to HHH. HHH, in his turn, took a sip of a beer and stalled—trying to formulate his thoughts. Instinct told him they were waiting for information. A stare down was well underway when a large shadow fell over their table. One extremely pissed off Undertaker was towering over them.

Shawn, sensing what was coming next, shoved a beer in his direction. "Yes, this is indeed the official Vincent Kennedy McMahon is an asshole and therefore will burn in hell table. Have a seat…"

Undertaker, whose facial expression hadn't changed one bit, pulled up a chair and eyed the rest of his companions skeptically. "Now." Taker began sternly in a Texan laced accent. "I don't know what in the samn hell kind of stunt that was back there. But I want some goddamn answers. NOW." He had of course, addressed his statement to Shane, but seeing that the younger McMahon's gaze rested on HHH, turned his attention towards the later.

"Oooookay then." HHH took another sip of his beer. "Well…you see…" HHH ran his hand through his hair. "I really don't know anything myself…"

Michaels slammed his bottle down on the table. "For Christ sake H…"

Show saw his opportunity. "Well…I saw them bring her in…of course her head was covered and all…" Show was proud of himself and looked around for approval. He had brought something to the conversation.

"Remind me to give you a gold star." Shawn quipped sarcastically before returning to his beer. "Half the world saw them dragging her into this hotel like a criminal."

"Guys, guys. Just calm down, ok?" HHH tried to play peacemaker. "This won't exactly help things at all…" HHH turned his head slightly. "Oh for Christ Sake… " HHH let that one slip before he could check himself.

Shawn looked at HHH and glanced in the same direction. "And it just keeps getting worse and worse and—"

"We get the point Shawn. We get it, ok?" HHH slapped Michaels on the back. Jericho had just walked into the bar, and, while waiting for his drink, had noticed the men huddled in a corner. This is going to be interesting. H kept his thoughts about his sister-in-law and Jericho to himself.

"So what do you think she was trying to say—at the airport?" Show asked, full of curiosity. No one paid any attention to him.

Jericho was making his way over. Shit. Yet another person I'm going to have to keep from killing Vince…and Shawn…and judging by the look on his face, Shane too.

Jericho pulled up another chair and sat down at the head of the table. Taking the time to eye each and every person present, his gaze rested on Shane. "Explain, Jackass." There, the command was given.

Shane puffed up, obviously insulted that he had just been given marching orders. "First of all, don't pull your shit with me, Chris—I'm not in the mood." He paused. "Second of all, it's none of your goddamn business, so why don't you just—"

HHH interrupted Shane right on time. "Look, Chris. I don't know anything. He doesn't know anything. Nobody knows anything."

"Except that Vince is an asshole" Show snickered under his breath.

"Well, of course there's that." Even H smiled weakly as everyone raised their drinks again.

"Great. Just great. And why, can someone tell me, if you all are so greatly concerned, are you sitting here on your asses like a bunch of bumps on a log?" Jericho was on the verge of sneering at no one in particular.

"Why don't you go ahead and tell us? I have a feeling that's exactly what you're going to do anyways…" Michaels had been looking to pick a fight with Jericho ever since that incident a couple weeks ago.

"Not so high and mighty now, are we…Uncle Shawn?" Jericho spat out.

HHH, seated in between the two, quickly put a hand on each shoulder and shoved the men back into their seats. "Enough, you two!" He hissed. "This is the last goddamn thing Victoria needs right now." Thank God the rest of the table had been occupied talking amongst themselves.

Shane wondered briefly why Jericho was still there before shrugging it off. Jericho had to be there. Of course everything that happened, had to be, in some way, shape, or form, related to the self-proclaimed "King of the World." That guy needed to get a life. Perhaps, Shane reasoned, he would invite Chris over for a football game or—something.

"Would you little boys quit fucking around and get to the point?" Taker slammed his fist into the table, causing it to shake. Good. That had gotten everyone's attention.

"Fine. Allright. But this doesn't go any further than this table. Do I make myself clear?" HHH eyed each person at the table before continuing. "All I know is that evidentially Bret—"

"Yet another asshole." Shawn muttered under his breath.

HHH ignored the comment and continued. "…made the wise decision of going public with—with…let's just say, Victoria's biological parentage."

"The dickwad went to the press running his mouth that Vince is her Dad." Jericho translated for the rest of the group. Show, who had previously been confused, nodded in understanding at Jericho's explanation.

"Now…Steph and I were already here when they brought Victoria in." HHH took yet another swig of his bear. "And…when Steph went to check on her…" HHH tried to think of a way he could word this as delicately as possible. "Victoria ah….wasn't really….doing so good." HHH fidgeted uncomfortably in his seat.

"What exactly do you mean "not doing so good"?" Jericho enunciated a staccato clip after every word.

HHH rubbed the back of his head, not exactly sure of how he should answer Jericho's enquiries. He suspected something between Chris and Victoria—and didn't want to spoil it. "She's—ah—she's fine now. I brought her back to our suite…" HHH placed emphasis on the word "brought" praying Jericho would understand his meaning.

"Ok. That's it." Taker slammed his fist into the table. "I'm going to go have a little chat with the old man…." Apparently he didn't think I was serious the first time. Show left with Taker, hot on his heels. That left Jericho, Shane, Michaels and HHH.

Once again, Shane wondered why the hell Jericho was still there, and promptly shook it off.

"Maybe you should go up there, Shawn…and…check on things?"

Shawn eyed H like he had three heads, and just as quickly got up from his seat, looking utterly defeated. "And tell Victoria what exactly?"

"Well…well…" HHH shrugged it off. Hell if he had a clue.

"I can not look that child in the eye and just…" His voice started to crack. Michaels took a moment to regain his composure. "I just can't. I can't do it…" He threw some money on the table before walking out of the bar.

Chris was taken aback by the emotion Shawn had displayed when speaking of Victoria. Even he couldn't help but to see it. "And what about you….you're the brother…" He took a sip of beer and waited for Shane's response.

Shane studied the table. "She lost it when I walked in." Despite not trying to sound utterly defeated, Chris could hear the despair in Shane's voice. Shane took another swig of beer. "That's when I got kicked out."

"Kicked…out?" Chris was a bit confused.

HHH and Shane exchanged weak smiles. "Stephanie." The both answered simultaneously as if that would erase every question in the known universe.

Victoria winced in agony. She could feel the razor sharp knife tip plunging into her back. Suddenly, a slight blast of cool air hit her flushed skin. Victoria began to remember. She rubbed her eyes, softly crying out as she felt her tears being replaced by sand. The plane. The airport. The reporters. The questions. The insults. God, please let me wake up and this all be a dream. Please. Victoria silently prayed before slowly opening her now very swollen eyes.

Cautiously, she studied her surroundings. This was most definitely NOT the bathroom she last remembered herself in, and, if the truth be told, probably not even the same hotel room. Actually, this room was much, much nicer than hers had been. Victoria tried to sit up in the large, luxuriously appointed bed, but found herself lacking the strength and willpower to do so. She momentarily panicked when she couldn't see any of the familiar objects she brought with her. Immediately, her hand flew to her throat just to make SURE her most precious possession was safe, right where it should be. Upon feeling the smooth metal of the locket, her heart calmed a bit.

Victoria opened her mouth to yawn, and just as quickly made sure to cover it. Despite being alone, she hadn't yet had the opportunity to brush her teeth, and wouldn't take the chance offending the voices in HER head, let alone whosoever should walk in the door. Gawd. The look on Victoria's face was extremely sour. She rubbed her lips together, which, of course, helped her come to the conclusion that they too, just like her eyes, were laced with jagged particles of sand. Victoria didn't have to lick her lips to taste the salt in her mouth. That's what I'll do. I'll just 86 this whole wrestling crap and become the world's first human piece of beef jerky! Victoria couldn't help but to smile at the genius of her epiphany.

Victoria was staring off at some invisible point outside the patio door when Stephanie entered the room. Quietly, she sat the glasses of ice water she had brought with her on the nightstand, and sat down on the edge of the bed. Only when Victoria felt the weight next to her, did it grab her attention, causing her to turn her head. Stephanie winced when she saw Victoria's face. She could tell by the look on the younger woman's face that Victoria must be extremely baffled by everything that had and was taking place around her. Stephanie smiled, reaching out and patting Victoria's shoulder.

"I brought you some water." Stephanie motioned to the bedside table where the glasses sat. She saw Victoria struggling to sit up, and placed some of the pillows behind her back—helping her the best she could.

"T-thank you." Victoria said quietly before attempting to drink the entire glass of water she had just been given, nearly choking herself in the process.

"Careful, careful…little sips…" Stephanie said motherly, trying to smooth Victoria's hair. Stephanie had been eyeing her sister from the moment she walked in the room, and had noticed that Victoria kept on glancing at the door as if she expected someone else to barge in. She shook her head, replacing the glass to the nightstand. "Just us. You're going to stay with me tonight. I don't want you to be alone…"

Victoria looked almost frightened. "Am I…in trouble? What did I do?"

Stephanie was shocked. "Nooooooo….." She chuckled lightly and put her arm around Victoria. "Why on Earth would you think that?"

"I just… I don't know what happened. One minute I was with Sh--…." Victoria looked honestly panicked. "Where's Shane? What happened to Shane?"

The Boy Wonder is going to love this one. We're no longer concerned about our private life being turned into a public spectacle…we're more concerned about where that lazy, good for nothing…. Stephanie quickly snapped herself out of her "why does everyone love Shane so damn much"? rant to calm Victoria's nerves. She patted Victoria's hand. "He's fine. Everyone's fine…don't worry so much, ok, sweetie?"

Steph could tell by the look in Victoria's eyes, she wasn't buying her explanation. "Ok. So sue me. I kicked him out." Stephanie pouted. Victoria raised her eyebrow. "The real truth is…he's been hogging you all to his "heir apparent" self…and it's my turn now!" Stephanie was encouraged by the small giggle she heard. "So…" encouraged, she continued. "I've made it my mission in life to make you see exactly why you should dump his color-blind, sorry ass and spend more time with your poor, heartbroken, mistreated, loving Sister.

It's official. My life is now a wrestling promo. And, a very bad one at that. Victoria looked around mischievously and motioned for Stephanie to come closer. "I threw away all of those nasty paisley shirts of his…he thinks the dry cleaner messed them up…." She nodded gravely at a now beaming Stephanie McMahon.

Stephanie applauded her sister before giving her a big kiss on the cheek. "And they say we're NOT related." Stephanie snickered sarcastically. "So tell me…what other kinds of havoc have you been wreaking on our poor Brother? I could use some fresh ideas…" She rubbed her hands together in a very malicious fashion.

"I can't give away all my genius at once…" Victoria shrugged innocently.

"Wow." Stephanie was honestly impressed. "You just…promise me you'll never loose the eye thing, ok? You could SO work that if you wanted to. You know…I can teach you things…" Stephanie was on a roll.

Isn't that what everyone is afraid of? Victoria decided the safest course of action would be to nod and smile. "Hey—" Stephanie joked good humouredly. "Perhaps I should be the one asking you for pointers. I mean…" Her voice trailed off as if she were unsure she should continue.

"What?"

"Well…technically you…I mean you are…the only person in the history of the business to be a multi-generational Superstar on BOTH sides of your family…"

The obvious sincerity in the Billion Dollar Princess' voice genuinely surprised Victoria. Hell surely must be frozen over now. This was about the last thing she expected to ever hear coming from Stephanie McMahon (of all people).

"Not even I can ever top THAT.."

"I'm not a Sup—"

Stephanie snickered. "In this family?" She shook her head. "Trust me. I've already got ideas…"

Victoria felt afraid. Very afraid. "Uh….I don't know Stephanie. I've never even—"

Stephanie waved it off, patting Victoria's cheek sweetly. "Oh trust me… no one would even let me THINK about having you do half the stuff I've done…you're far, far too sweet…"

Victoria cocked her head to one side and folded her arms across her chest, half glaring at Stephanie. It didn't help that Stephanie couldn't keep a straight face and continued to pat Victoria on the head. "Let me see if I can explain it this way…you know Mom?"

"Of course I don't." Victoria rolled her eyes.

"Well…some people, no matter how hard they try…can't be heels…that's all I was saying…"

"So you're saying I can't be evil?" Victoria leveled her best death glare at Stephanie, who couldn't help but to shrink back a bit.

"Ew. Not at all…given that you are a…a…Hart…and a …well…you have Daddy's blood in you, of course you could probably be extremely evil without even trying…"

"Thank you." Victoria nodded triumphantly.

Stephanie took a long sip of water. These babies of hers did have a tendency to pick the oddest times to become thirsty.

Victoria sighed, resting her head against the headboard. I don't want to be evil. I just want to BE. Why doesn't anyone understand that??

"What's wrong?" Stephanie asked cautiously, not wanting to disturb the rapport she had been laboring so hard to build.

Victoria shook her head. "Eeh—it's nothing. 'm jus tired…"

Stephanie folded her arms over her—what some may term gargantuan chest. "Yeah well, I'm not buying it. So you might as well save yourself the trouble and spill…" She struggled to soften the no-nonsense tone of voice so many had been accustomed to. Victoria shook her head again, and Stephanie decided to continue. "Look. As strange as this is going to sound—and I can assure you, it will—like it or not, I AM your Sister…have been your entire life, I might add, and as such, I am entitled to provide "Sisterly council"…."

Victoria opened her eyes and stared at Stephanie with an eyebrow cocked so highly, the Croc—err, the Rock would have been proud. "Sisterly" Victoria nearly choked on the words. Could Stephanie have been drinking despite being pregnant? "Sisterly…Council? Ok, allright. Who exactly are you? And what have you done with Stephanie McMahon?"

Stephanie chuckled slightly, and held up a hand. "Ok, ok. Very cute. So, I'll admit…I deserved that. But believe it or not, Sweetie….having kids has a tendency to change your outlook—on a lot of things… One day, when you have kids, you'll understa--"

Victoria gasped, cutting Stephanie off mid sentence. "Ohhhhhhhhhhhh NO. NO.NO.NO.NO.NOOOOOOOOO." She shook her head for extra emphasis.

Stephanie snickered evilly. "If you think I'm going to settle with two nephews…you're wrong…."

Victoria thought she could sense the sarcasm in that statement, but her mind told her that what Stephanie said was probably very true.

"And I'm also not that easily distracted…" Victoria shook Stephanie off, which only caused the later to start poking her younger sister's arm. "Besides….aren't you excited about your dattte?"

Victoria shrugged half heartedly. Of course she was excited, but her mind had, once again, kicked into over drive. The result? She was now, more than ever, firmly convinced that her "date" was entirely out of her league. "I just—" Victoria shrugged, at a loss for words.

"Go on…" Stephanie encouraged.

Victoria took a deep breath. "Of course a part of me is excited."

"A…part?" Stephanie was confused.

"Well yeah. But, I mean…I'm just not in his league…" Victoria announced defeated.

At first, Stephanie had thought Victoria to be joking. However, after studying Victoria's lowly hung head and sagging posture, it hit her that she might be telling the truth.

"It's stupid, I know. It was probably just a pity date to begin with. I should have said NO, especially now with every—"

"First of all, it's not stupid." Stephanie cut Victoria off. "But why….why on earth would you think such a thing?" Victoria simply shook her hanging head, to which, Stephanie resumed the poking of the arm.

"I mean…he's just…just…" Victoria waved her hands around as if that would convey the message she was trying to impart. "And I'm just…just…let's just say…I've seen the type of women he's dated…I'm not one of them…"

Stephanie grabbed her hand and squeezed it. If for nothing else, Stephanie could sympathize with her sister on this exact topic. She reached over with her free hand and lifted Victoria's chin, forcing her to look into her own eyes. "No. Look at me."

All though the words may be coming out of the body of the "Billion Dollar Princess", Victoria could tell that Stephanie was being dead serious with her.

"Of course you're not one of them." It was clear both women were referencing what the industry claimed were "Divas". "You're better than they could ever HOPE to be…"

"Right."

"I'm serious, Victoria. You know, in my entire life, I've NEVER had guys fall all over themselves the way I've seen the locker room tripping and stumbling over YOU--and no this just did NOT start, for your information…do you know how many fights Paul has had to break up because two guys were fighting over who was going to sit next to you at LUNCH?"

"Are you shitting me?"

"Oh trust me—that's not the half of it. But my point is this—of course the Divas" Stephanie made air quotes when she spat out the word. "Of course they turn heads. Most of them end up turning tricks as well—but that's way besides the point… Look at the guys who are in happy, steady relationships—the guys that don't HAVE or WANT to screw around on their women—yes, I know it's hard to believe they exist…but they do…"

"And…what about them?" Victoria wasn't completely sold on what Stephanie was telling her—but it was causing her to think.

"They have something in here" Stephanie pointed to her head. "And they have something in here." Stephanie picked up Victoria's hand and put it over her heart. "Those are your most valuable assets, Victoria. Don't you ever let anyone try to tell you differently."


	20. Chapter 18

Chris paced the hotel lobby, near the elevators. _Ping!_ The sound which signaled the arrival of another elevator car nearly scared him out of his wits. Quickly, he scanned the people that were now exiting. Three mid-carders and their dates. _Shit._ He checked his watch for what must have been the fifteenth time in the last five minutes. It seemed _his_ date did indeed have several minutes to spare. Chris looked up at the ceiling as though he were staring straight into her room. He sniffed. _Hot date, my ass._ Chris shook his head. Of course Victoria would be too kind to end his misery five minutes early and just—appear.

_Ping! Ping!_ Subconsciously, Chris straightened his jacket and plastered on the most debonair smile in his arsenal. His breath caught slightly as the doors began to slide open. It HAD to be her. It just HAD to. A lone figure exited and waved to Chris. _Just go AWAY!_ No such luck. It was headed this way.

"I'm happy to see you too, Jericho…" HHH snickered, slapping Jericho on the back.

Jericho simply glared at HHH. If looks could kill, HHH would be far, far, far away by now.

"Aww…c'mon Man. Why don't we go and have a drink? My treat?"

Jericho smiled sarcastically at HHH. Whatever game Trip was up to, he wanted absolutely none of it. "Thanks for the offer. Maybe another time?"

HHH wasn't about to take NO for an answer. "You know what they say—there's no time like the present!"

Jericho could feel that he wasn't getting out of this one, and followed Trip to the bar, where he took a seat with a clear view of the elevators. He had learned to handle the Monster that called himself "The Game," but nice, happy Trip? That was downright scary.

"Not very talkative today?" H sat next to him

"I have some things on my mind right now…ok?"

Paul watched as Chris' head turned every single time a _Ping!_ Wafted through the air. Poor Guy. Somebody had to put him out of his misery. "Relax, for God's sake. You've got at least ten minutes before you have to be on the lookout…" H said lowly before taking a sip of his cocktail.

Chris eyed him incredulously. "What in the hell are you spewing about now?"

H shot Chris a very knowing look, before glancing around to make sure they weren't be overheard. "The _women_ are still getting ready…God only knows how long it'll take them to get down here…" H shuddered involuntarily.

"Uh-huh." Chris wasn't about to give anything up—especially not to HIM.

HHH rolled his eyes. "Hey! I dared to knock on the door and suggest…._suggest_ they might want to speed things up a bit…and _yours_ threw a SHOE at me!"

"Mine? I think you need to lay off the alcohol, my friend…" Chris tried to play innocent.

HHH mimicked Jericho's tone of voice. "And you know what I think?"

"Is this a trick question?"

HHH smiled sweetly. "If you ever hurt **her**-- mark my words, Vince McMahon will be the very least of your problems." HHH eyed Jericho with all the intensity in the world.

Jericho's mind drew a blank. Of course it was, by now, quite obvious who both men were referring to, and Chris had absolutely no intention of making Victoria seriously unhappy. However, there was no doubt in Chris' mind that H wouldn't hesitate or give a second thought to hunting him down like a wild dog.

"Please, Paul. I'd never think of doing that. I've known her longer than YOU have…" Jericho was a bit offended at the mere suggestion.

HHH nodded in agreement. "I know you have. All the more reason you wouldn't want to have every single bone in your body crushed…right?"

Chris nodded in agreement—unsure of what he could say that would not garner him some sort of "ass-kicking ala Sledgehammer".

"What are you two boys doing over here all by yourself?" One of the Divas had escaped from the herd, and was currently leaning up against the bar with one arm over Chris shoulder.

Startled by the presence besides him, Chris turned his head, and found himself confronted by one very scantily clad Diva who was now—playing with his HAIR? An involuntarily smile passed his lips. This one sure wasn't shy about displaying her—assets.

HHH coughed to get their attention. "We're having a conversation here—now go and play with your little friends..." HHH smiled, but waved her off at the same time. After several persistent whimpers, HHH finally succeeded in getting the half naked girl to go away. HHH stared at his new protégé—Lord, did the boy need help—and quickly.  
"Chris…do you want to live?"

Chris nearly choked. "Excuse me?"

"You heard me. Do you WANT to live?"

"Of course I do." Chris rolled his eyes.

"Then why—" Trip rubbed his forehead "in the hell--are you trying--to get us both—KILLED?"

"What in the hell are you talking about, Junior?" Chris finished his drink and sat it down on the bar.

HHH groaned. The boy had absolutely NO common sense. "Just…do us BOTH a favor…no more hanging out with the "Divas", no more talking to the "Divas" hell…no more….how shall I put this? Admiring the "Divas". HHH shook his head.

Chris snickered. "How can I help it? I mean…they were RIGHT there, man! And I am—"

HHH interrupted him. "Absolutely guilty until proven innocent. And anything YOU say or do will be held against ME…."

Chris rolled his eyes.

"Roll your eyes all you want, but that is not the women you need to be "admiring"—" HHH had to pause and clear his throat. Did he just tell Jericho to leer at his Sister-in-Law?

"Whew—she's really got you whipped, hasn't she?" Chris snickered, making whipping noises.

HHH clenched his jaw and reminded himself to keep his cool—at least while they were at the hotel and not at "work". "Not at all. But the fact of the matter is that I am a _happily_ married man. I have someone to go to home to—and I intended on keeping it that way, _Flower Boy_. Like it or not, I've been in your shoes, Chris…" Paul checked his watch—the girls should be coming downstairs any second now.

"I don't think your stinking feet would fit there Trips…" Chris frowned as soon as he heard the words coming out of his mouth. It was times like this when he wished his alter ego, one "Chris Jericho" would just "shut. The. Hell. Up." He grimaced. Even when he was lecturing himself about not going over the deep end, he ended up using his own catchphrases against him.

HHH saw the look on his companions face and leaned in very closely, so that no one would overhear what he would say next. "You get. Exactly. _ONE_. Chance." HHH held up a single finger to serve as a visual aid. When he saw that he had Chris' complete attention, he continued. "Once you win one of these McMahon women over, they are on your ass like white on rice." Chris couldn't help but to snicker at that last comment. Victoria had made the same observation about his own backside the time she managed to wake him up with a pitcher of ice water. "Screw it up and your ass is out—cold. So I'd advise you to know what the hell you're getting yourself into. They're not stupid."

_Ping! Ping! Ping!_

Something caught Paul's eye and he smiled. "Now if you'll excuse me—I have a date with my _wife_." Paul straightened his own jacket before leaving the bar area to join Stephanie.

Chris waved the bartender off when he came by and offered to refill his drink. He was almost afraid to look away from the bar. He knew she was there. Chris couldn't hear, smell or see Victoria—but he could feel her presence. That presence scared the shit out of him. The laughter he heard coming from the other side of the lobby made his heart ache with jealousy. What the hell was wrong with him? Sure he _liked_ Victoria—damn, there it was again. Standing up to check his reflection in the mirror behind the bar, he could even pick out the sound of Victoria's particular giggle. Slowly turning around, he searched the lobby until he found her.

His jaw dropped. Chris silently thanked God his presence had been concealed by the bar. Very slowly, he raised his hand to his face, as if to scratch an itch on his chin. Truth be told, he had to manually shut his own mouth. Being busted wide open in the middle of an arena, surrounded by 20,000 fans—on the verge of passing out was absolutely nothing to what he felt himself going through. Victoria had always, at least in his eyes, been pretty. Hell, during that dance back at the Towers, the word "beautiful" had run through his mind—once…or twice. Chris shook his head and took a second look.

_Is that….green?_ Victoria shifted her position to pose for a picture with Rey Mysterio. Chris marveled at the way the light hit her dress. Very, very dark green with just a hint of shininess to it. He grinned as he saw her smiling for the picture. Victoria's dress, Chris decided, was very "Cinderella-like"…but clearly, he noted, with a huge smirk on his face, not something Walt Disney would eveeeeer approve of. Chris loved it already. The skirt thing met with the top thing in such a very, very, nice way that way so as to avoid the absolutely perfect spot for _his_ arm.

He could feel the heat on his cheeks as his eyes traveled up her torso. Chris also noted that this dress was strapless—and could see himself standing behind her, resting his chin in the crook of her neck. _This woman is TRYING to get me killed. _Not to mention…_Holy Shit—don't these people have air conditioning?_ He swallowed—hard as he traced the silhouette of her neck downwards—where something sparkly caught his eye. It wasn't a necklace. Victoria apparently didn't have enough sympathy for him to wear such a thing. It was the top of her dress. Chris bit his lip. It had sparkly, little diamond things around it. _Ok, Bunny. Two can play at this game._ Chris re-plastered the planned, dashing, debonair smile from earlier before going to approach to her.

Victoria was now off to one side—standing alone. Chris face softened when he saw the disheartened look on her face. She glanced around periodically, but mainly kept her gaze on the floor, where she was steadily working on grounding a hole in the carpeting—much like he had seen her doing that day in Connecticut. She opened and shut the small clutch she brought with her—nervously and sighed. _If this was a joke—_

Chris cleared his throat and immediately jammed his hands in his pockets.

Victoria jumped, startled by the sudden presence and looked up to see him. Nearly gasping, she caught herself, before falling back into her old routine. She returned Chris' saccharin smile.

"I—I didn't mean to startle you."

Victoria rolled her eyes, the same saccharin smile still on her face. "Oh, no. Of course not. I was jus—"

"Waiting for someone?" _For me?_ Was the question he longed to ask.

Victoria looked a bit confused. To Chris, the way her nose wrinkled and the way her brows knitted were very, very cute. He smiled at her, this time very genuinely, and held out his arm. He chuckled softly as he watched the gears in Victoria's head starting up. She didn't know what to do to! Gently, he grabbed a hold of her free arm and put it through his own, so that her hand was resting in the crook of his arm.

The solitary thought running through Victoria's mind whilst all of this was going on? _Don't pass out. Don't pass out. Don't pass out._

Chris leaned down and kissed her cheek. He couldn't have been any happier then when he saw the REAL Victoria grin and giggle softly. "Shall we?" He smirked.

Victoria nodded. "We'd best get out of here. Before my _hot date_ shows up and you're forced to kick his ass…." Victoria glanced over her shoulder, batting her eyelashes at Chris, who simply snickered in reply. "And we can't have that, can't we?" Chris shook his head as he lead her towards the door.

"Why not?"

Victoria gasped slightly. "What if you got hurt?"

"And just what makes you think I'd get hurt? Huhhh? I am, afterall--"

"King of the World…Bling Bling…whatever it is this week…" Victoria snickered as she waved it off. "My point is that…if you got hurt….I'd have to stay here and take care of your ugly mug. Then I couldn't go party…and that would be a very _bad_ thing…" Victoria said gravely.

It was all Chris could do to keep a straight face. "…maybe a bad thing for you…." He muttered under his breath, which earned him a jab in the side. _As if NO guy in that locker room ever played it up—being hurt, in front of their woman…_ His own thought caused him to snicker again.

Victoria eyed him. She could only imagine what was going through his mind right about now. "You are such a--such…." She grunted out of frustration.

"Yesss, Princess?" He asked with the same puppydog voice that he KNEW she loved so much.

Victoria's eyes narrowed to slits as she continued to stare him down. "You are such a….GUY!"

"Why thank you. I'm glad _you_ noticed." He kissed her cheek again before snaking the arm which had previously held hers, to it's new home, right around her waist. He felt her slight jump at his touch, and it sent shivers down his own his own spine. _Ohhhh this is going to be one hell of a long night._

They paused briefly at the door, surveying the looming crowd of media interlaced with fans. "Our public awaits, Bunny…" He smiled reassuringly at her, pulling her closer to his side before leading her out the glass doors.

As soon as the warm, early evening air hit them, the flashes started going off and the crowd popped. Chris beamed. How lucky could he possibly be? Not only did his fans get to see him with HIS Bunny, but the media did as well! It's good to be alive.

Victoria, on the other hand, tried to block it all out, snuggling as close to Chris side as she possibly could. Perhaps she had made some progress after all. At least they weren't chanting "you're a bastard" like the last time she had stepped foot outside the hotel—she could be thankful for that, at the very least. Then it started. Victoria very seriously contemplated just hiding her head in Chris' shoulder.

"VICTORIA! VICTORIA!! JUST ONE COMMENT!!"

She felt Chris' grip on her tighten even more—and she felt a bit a better, turning her attention to where the vast majority of the fans had congregated. Her heart melted. There was the cutest little boy, clad in perhaps what had to be every single piece of "Y2J" merchandise the company sold, cheering his head off through the bars of the guard rail. Victoria stopped, almost causing Chris to stumble. He quickly made a recovery waving to various fans scattered in the crowd.

Victoria pulled on Chris' arm. "Chris…" Victoria was trying to be as quiet as possible, but wasn't successful in getting his attention. Finally, a light bulb went off. She tried again. "JERICHO." Damn, that came off sounding a little too Stephie-esque. But it sure did get his attention. Victoria grinned and motioned for him to lean down.

"And just what does my number one fan have to say? Hmmm?" He leaned in as if he were going to kiss her.

Victoria smirked and decided to go with it. She leaned in as well. "That it might actually make me _want_ to kiss you if you went over there and said hello to the little toe-headed boy who's been screaming your name for the last five minutes…" Victoria purred, in a sultry tone that she didn't know she had.

"How could I turn down _that_ offer?" Chris smirked cockily before going over to the little boy.

Victoria couldn't have been any prouder as she watched Chris. He was so sweet, and so absolutely loving. She beamed as she watched Chris crouch down and have a "talk" with the little guy, giving him an autograph, and even hoisting him over the guard rail so his Dad could take a picture of them…. _He's going to make such a great dad, someday…_ Victoria shook her head. Oh hell no. She had to get away from Stephanie and all that baby-talk of hers.

She had managed to forget about the press standing behind her, and was completely engulfed in the scene before her. Victoria blushed when she caught Chris' eye and realized he had caught her red-handed "posing" for the fans. She had spotted a few anti-Vince signs and had motioned to the fans that brought them.

"Who's your favorite wrestler, Victoria!?" A teenage boy, standing a few rows back managed to scream.

Victoria had opened her mouth to answer, but before she knew it, Chris was back at her side—apparently glued in place. "WHO DO YOU THINK, ASSCLOWN?"

Victoria turned beet red, giggling like crazy.

"NOT YOU, JERKY!" The smart-assed fan yelled back. Everyone, save for Jericho, cracked up at the reply.

Victoria laughed and clapped at the reply. "Ooooh…you got dissed—by one of your OWN…." She snickered and pointed smartassedly.

Jericho scowled—although Victoria spied the corners of his mouth twitching.

"So are you really Vince's kid or--what?"

Chris spied the evil twinkle in Victoria's eye—and knew he was in for trouble.

Victoria stepped away from Chris slightly and opened her arms to the crowd. "I'm babysitting--" She motioned towards Chris several times, as if she weren't able to bring herself to say it. "One of us has to keep him in line!" Victoria smirked back at Chris. The crowd absolutely LOVED it. After one line, she had managed to get a bigger pop than he had! The crowd was so completely enthralled with the banter between Chris and Victoria, the sight of Vince McMahon himself, who was standing just outside the door of the hotel watching the entire scene, completely escaped them.

_No, no, no, NO. These are MY people, dearest Bunny. This will simply not do!!_

Unbeknownst to Victoria—who was pandering to the fans, Chris had snuck up right behind her. For a moment—a brief moment, Chris hesitated. It was so easy, it almost seemed unfair! The crowd egged him on as he made "kissy faces" behind Victoria's back. Victoria, completely oblivious as to what was taking place behind her, grinned and blew kisses at the crowd.

Suddenly, she remembered Jericho. For the last couple of minutes, he'd been pretty quiet. _Too quiet. _They did, after all, have somewhere to be. Victoria turned around to look for Chris. Finding herself face to face with the enemy, she didn't even have time to do a double take before both of his hands were on each side of her face and Chris was kissing the _hell_ out of her.

At first, she was shocked. Gasping, arms flailing, the works. But after a few seconds, everything changed. The roar of the crowd was a distant humming in her ears, next to the pounding of her own heart. She felt herself starting to go weak at the knees, like a giddy schoolgirl. Chris pulled away giving her "the smirk". Victoria swallowed—hard, trying to regain the feeling in her legs. Secretly, Victoria dreaded the power of "the smirk". It was her kryptonite. And, she bit her lip as she smoothed her dressed. Judging by the look in Chris' eyes…he had just found out.


	21. Chapter 19

A/N: A huge thank you to everyone who's read and reviewed! If you want more frequent updates, drop me a line and let me know what you think! Reviews! I love reviews!

"…which brings us to our next topic of discussion, ladies and gentleman—" Victoria listened to the ramblings of an aspiring news reporter, turned round table discussion moderator, while watching the scenery pass her by. She and Chris had gotten stuck in stop-and-go road construction traffic. It had been quite fun exchanging flirtatious banter in the back of the very nicely appointed limo, until Chris leaned in to actually kiss her—for JUST as the driver slammed on the brakes. This of course, knocked Chris off balance, sending him barreling straight into her chest.

Victoria slowly turned her head and eyed the man sitting inches away from her. Chris smiled oh so very sweetly in reply. Victoria rolled her eyes and returned to watching the nearest palm tree. Chris sure as hell took his time righting himself after that tumble. _Paragon of Virtue, my ass._

"Yet another scandal has hit World Wrestling Entertainment—"

Victoria sensed that Chris was going for the control to the TV. "Do it, and word of your Hello Kitty boxers will _mysteriously_ get out…."

Chris smirked. "So you noticed those, did ya?" He snickered as he saw the flush on Victoria's cheeks.

"….a company that has been plagued with scandals and misfortunes in recent months. As I'm sure you've all heard—former WWE Superstar and Hall of Famer Bret Hart is publicly alleging that no other than WWE Chairman Vince McMahon fathered a child by one of his sisters--which leads us all to beg the question: Is this real? Or is it another one of McMahon's ill-conceived publicity stunts? Before we go to commercial break, I'd like to invite you to cast your vote—the instructions are on the screen. When we come back…the discussion—and the shocking, new revelations in this on-going saga…"

Victoria shook her head. A flash of light caught her eye. She stared at Chris, agape. "What in the _hell_ are you doing?"

Chris, with all the innocence of a child, looked away from his mobile phone—to her, and shrugged. He cocked his head to one eye and studied his phone thoughtfully, stroking his chin. "I was going to vote for number one…but I don't know. Vince has done some pretty weird shit over the years…"

Victoria blinked, still agape. She was shocked. Was Christopher…HER Christopher seriously going to vote on whether or not Vince McMahon is really her father, on the way to the Hall of Fame festivities? Chris was eyeing her as if he were going to buy a car. "You are sooooo not right. There is something wrong in that head of yours." Victoria folded her arms over her chest and shook her head. Loretta, Chris' mother was going to have a FIT when she heard about her Son's latest escapade.

Christopher was still pretending to be very serious about the voting issue. Now that he knew he had gotten under Victoria's skin, he wasn't about to give up. "Do me a favor, pleaaaase?" Chris pouted, running a couple fingers up and down her bare arm.

_Cheater._ Victoria bit on her lip. "It depends."

"Say it. Just _once?_"

_Oh Lord, now he's batting his eyelashes at ME._ Victoria smiled, reaching over and tucking a strand of Christopher's hair so that it was back in its proper place. "Once again…it depends." Victoria felt herself unable to pull her hand back, finding herself happily engaged in the task of playing with the ends of Christopher's short hair—conveniently located right behind his ear. Chris grinned like a fool. _Poor baby. If I didn't know how much you want me to kiss you right now…I just might actually have to do it._

"Plllllleeeeeeeeease?" Chris whimpered, laying his head on Victoria's shoulder.

Victoria sighed, putting her arm around him. She wouldn't have given him the satisfaction, but Chris' sheer physical size, and the fact that her arm was pinned between them, made sitting there more than uncomfortable. Chris whimpered again, and Victoria found herself rubbing his shoulder and…._consoling_ him? "Oh please, Christopher!" Victoria was disgusted with herself. Chris had managed to play her—again! In less than TEN minutes! Victoria could feel Chris grinning against her skin. How the hell had he worked his way down to her lower shoulder? _You'd better not try it, oh mighty Paragon…._

"Ooooh…sparkly!" Victoria could feel Chris's head start to slowly slide down—even further.

"Oh helll no…." Victoria reached around his shoulders and pinched his ear. "Perv."

"Owww!" Chris immediately jumped back and began rubbing the offended earlobe.

"What exactly would your mother say if she knew what you were up to, Christopher?" Victoria cocked her head, this time; her arms were firmly planted over her chest.

_She'd say it was about time—and that she didn't care as long as she got some grandkids out of it. _Chris smiled innocently. "Really, Bunny. You _know_ me." Chris placed a hand over his heart, dramatically. "It kills me that you would think I'm capable of anything other than the most gentlemanly like behavior…"

"You're full of it, Jericho." Victoria rolled her eyes.

"Please, Bunny. Allow me to make it up to you." Chris grabbed a hold of one of Victoria's hands, and, taking it in his own, pressed a very nice kiss to the back of it.

Victoria couldn't help but to smile sweetly at the gesture. Encouraged by this fact, Chris leaned over, quickly placing a sweet kiss on her lips.

"…as if that's going to make me forget…" Victoria scoffed, very softly, not moving an inch.

"….mmm…." Chris tilted his head and studied Victoria's eyes. "I might be able to do something about that, actually." He replied in the same soft tone Victoria had used on him.

Victoria closed her eyes. Feeling his lips on her own was almost more than her overworked senses could bear. She sighed softly, when he pulled away slightly. Not wanting more than anything else in the world, for this moment to end, she pressed closer to Chris, kissing him back with a vengeance. Smiling, she was the one to pull away this time. "Rum, Chris?" After tasting the rum on his lips, Victoria decided it had become her drink of choice.

Chris looked at Victoria, blinking. He had to have been in some alcohol-induced stupor. These were things of which HIS Bunny knew nothing about. Bunny never even acted like she did. Bunny was a GOOD girl. Bunny didn't even like to watch movies that were on the risqué side. Bunny didn't…. The conclusion was clear. This was not HIS Bunny. Where the hell was HIS Bunny?

Satisfied with his reaction, Victoria smirked and leaned back into her own seat. It was quite obvious that Christopher had not seen that one coming—which made the stunned expression on his face even that much more gratifying. Victoria snickered as Chris leaned back in HIS seat, eyeing her as if he didn't trust her. "What?" She asked innocently.

Chris folded his arms over his chest and studied her. "Like you don't know…"

Victoria was confused. He kissed HER, she returned the kiss. Isn't that how it was supposed to go? "Know….what, Chrissyfer?"

Chris snorted. He hated it when she used _that_ name—which, come to think of it, was probably the exact reason she used it. "And to think—all those years I thought Stephanie was the absolute _worst_ your family had to offer." He smiled, stealing yet another quick kiss.

"Chris, really. That isn't funny—" Victoria wrinkled her nose at the sound of someone knocking on the window.

Chris was genuinely surprised. He had noticed the knocking before she had. Ignoring it, he assumed it was Victoria herself—messing around.

It happened again. Chris and Victoria exchanged incredulous glances.

"Like I'd have to knock when I'm already in the back of the limo with _you_." Chris scoffed, trying to discern exactly where the noise was coming from.

"I swear—if it's another one of your crazy fans like that time in Boston—" Victoria pulled her wrap around her shoulders.

Chris snickered. "You'll love me anyways." He smiled at Victoria adoringly.

"Psh. In your _dreams_." Victoria rolled her eyes.

Chris could have said something, but decided against it. The knocking, as luck would have it, was emanating from the window on his side of the limo. Therefore, it was incumbent upon him to deal with it. "Who is the assclown who dares to disturb me? Don't you know I'm important, man? I'm the Ayatollah of Rock and Rolla, the King of Bling Bling…."

Victoria rubbed her head.

A WWE security person stuck their head inside the limo, nearly causing Chris to jump in Victoria's lap. "Ewwww God…get OFF!" Victoria forcefully shoved Chris away.

_She won't be saying that—for long._ Chris smiled with all the innocence of an angel before righting himself—yet again.

"I'm sorry to disturb you, Mr—" The WWE official looked puzzled, unsure of how to address Jericho.

Chris opened his mouth to start spewing his own list of titles and Victoria quickly clapped a hand over it.

The official smiled. "Thank you, Miss—" The guard looked puzzled, once again.

Victoria smiled reassuringly, still holding her hand over Christopher's mouth. "Just pick one…."

The offical's brow furrowed. "Miss…Har-- Miss Hart-McMahon."

Chris started to snicker and Victoria jabbed him in the side with her free hand.

"The reason we stopped you is because…well…_the family_ is making their way into the building out front. We'd like to bring you in the back entrance."

Victoria's hand fell to Chris' forearm. _Sneak me in is more like it._ Victoria was taken aback by the official's directive. Stalling for time, she brushed a piece of lint off her dress.

Chris shook his head. "No."

The forcefulness of his tone of voice caused Victoria to jump in her seat.

"I'm sorry?" The official looked a bit worried. "But I'm under direct order—"

"Look, Junior. I really don't care what your orders are, or who they came from. We--" Chris snaked an arm around Victoria and pulled her to him. "The only way—"

"Chris look…it's not—" Victoria tried to plead with Chris, but he was having absolutely none of it.

"We…and I do mean _we_ do not sneak in the back door." Victoria knew, by the look he was giving her, that she wouldn't win this argument. Chris pushed the button to raise the window back up, nearly catching the official's head in the process, and snickered when the official had to jump back from getting his foot run over.

Victoria studied her lap and played with her nails anxiously. _The family._ No one had to tell her who they were referring to. Nothing had changed. Not a damned thing. Victoria shook her head.

"Coooome on….tell Chrissy what's wrong…" Chris tried to coo to Victoria, despite knowing damn well what was on her mind. Victoria shook her head. Chris tickled that spot on her neck—it NEVER failed. Without looking up at him, Victoria pushed him away from her.

Victoria shivered and pulled her wrap even closer. "You shouldn't have done that, Christopher." She was still focused on her lap.

"What…._that_?" Chris grinned, tickling the spot on her neck yet again. He frowned when she pulled away—again. "Tell me, Bunny." Chris commanded gently. Victoria shook her head. He leaned over, crooking a finger under her chin, turning her head so that she was facing him.

"No, Chris…" The words came out barely above a whisper.

"Look at me." Victoria's eyes were still closed, yet Chris' tone remained firm—yet gentle. The last thing he wanted was to scare her like he had done just a few minutes earlier. Victoria shook her head slightly. "Look. At. Me." Slowly, Victoria opened her eyes to look at him. "You did not do _anything_ wrong." Victoria shook her head. "I'm serious, Victoria." Chris added with a little more force in his voice. He meant business, and he wanted to make absolutely sure she knew that. Victoria looked at him—really looked at him for the first time in their conversation. She didn't have to verbalize the torment she was going through. Chris could see it. He leaned his forehead against hers. "Forget Vince. Just for tonight, ok?" He kissed her forehead. "Please? For me?"

The driver opened Chris' door, and before he stepped out, Chris kissed Victoria's forehead one last time. Chivalrously helping Victoria out of the limo, Chris managed to position himself so that he was blocking most of the camera flashes. Victoria took his arm, much like she had done when he was escorting her out of the hotel. She could see _the family_—who were busily engaged posing for family pictures, in her peripheral vision. They were blocking the front door. Victoria faltered. Chris leaned down, smiling, pretending to help her with her wrap. "Ignore the bastard—just like he's been ignoring you." Chris said without moving his lips—he was still smiling for the assembled media and fans.

The closer they came to the little group of McMahons, the more Victoria heard the gasps coming from the media and the comments coming from the fans. _Ohhhh this isn't going to be good._ Victoria forced herself to look past them and into the building, as if she were looking for someone. At one point, while they were passing the group, Victoria even thought she caught a bit of Stephanie and Linda chewing Vince out for not bothering to speak to her. Of course that struck her as a bit odd. Neither did they, or, Shane for that matter.

"Jericho! Wait up!" _Shit. Spoke too soon._ Shane left the group and jogged over to them. "So you're going walk right by me and not bother to say hello?" Shane sounded offended. He was also apparently ignoring Victoria's presence—who, by this time, became even more determined to find one of the people who would actually be seen with her in public—besides the one on her arm.

"Since when did you ever desire MY presence?" Jericho scoffed.

Victoria braced herself. Chris was pissed off. She wished Shane would just go off and do his own thing before something bad happened.

Shane snickered. "Cut the crap, Jericho." Suddenly, he whistled. "Are you ever going to tell me how you end up with the best looking women?"

Victoria's head snapped back to Chris, who was returning the look. Neither one knew what to say. Shane obviously hadn't recognized Victoria.

"Well you see, Junior….it goes like this. When a man and a woman—"

Victoria clapped her hand over Christopher's mouth, much to Shane's amazement. She turned her focus to Shane. "I just have one thing to say. EWWWWW."

Shane's jaw dropped. He absolutely could not BELIEVE what he was seeing. "Oh. My. God…..Victoria?"

"No…I'm Bret Hart with boobs." Victoria felt Chris' mouth start to twitch and held it shut even tighter.

"I—I…you—you…you just look so—" Shane was shell shocked. Damn, his little sister looked different.

Victoria waited a few seconds for Shane to complete his thought. "Stupid? Ridiculous? Fat?"

Shane shook his head rather vehemently. "No, not at all. You're very pretty….I just…"

"You just--didn't think I was good enough to be seen in public with, that's all."

Shane opened his mouth to speak but no words came out.

Victoria shook her head. "I knew there was a catch. I _knew_ you weren't being nice to me just for the hell of it." She managed to keep her voice very low, in spite of the rage she felt building up inside her.

"Ah, Chris…would you—excuse us for a second?" Shane scratched his head and tried to lead Victoria away.

Victoria pulled back and stuck to Chris side. "No." She shook her head.

"Victoria…please." Shane tried to plead with her.

"Anything you have to say to me, you can say it in front of Christopher." No way was she about to leave his side.

"Victoria…I think this is a matter better off discussed in private." Shane said, more matter-of-factly, trying once again to take her arm.

Chris grabbed Shane's arm, taking it off of Victoria.

"Jericho—this isn't any of your business." Shane warned.

Chris smiled. "Bunny—I see Shawn over there, didn't you say you wanted to say hi?" He pointed Shawn out to Victoria and didn't have to wait long before she took off running.

_BUNNY? BUNNY!? _ "Look. I don't know what the hell kind of stunt you're trying to pull, Jericho—but I'm telling you right now. It's NOT going to happen."

"Ok." Chris stroked his chin thoughtfully. "Since you're so hell-bent on telling me what's NOT going to happen, I'm going to tell you exactly what IS going to happen." He smiled, confidently. "You—and the rest of your little posse are going to leave Bunny the HELL alone."

Shane started to turn red. "First of all, her name is _Victoria_. Second of all, she's my goddamn Sister…I'm the one who's taking care of her. NOT you. So go play your little mind games on somebody who's actually going to fall for it…I'm not."

"Interesting." He stroked his chin again. "_Your_ sister?" Jericho nodded. "You were so concerned about _your_ sister—that _your _people tried to make her sneak in the back door." Jericho kept nodding. "I can just feel the love in _your_ family." He smiled, sniffing the air as if something pleasant were floating around. "You people need to watch Oprah, or Dr. Phil or something." Chris shook his head disgustedly before leaving Shane to pick his jaw up off the floor.

_Later that evening…_

"Are you sure—absolutely sure you'll be ok without me?" Chris questioned Victoria, with all the concern in the world. While Chris and Victoria had managed to have a good time at during the evening's festivities, the entire night had been laced with sideways looks, whispers and the occasional comment—not to mention the comments from the fans in attendance. At least Vince had enough sense to stay backstage during the Hall of Fame taping. Victoria had caught Chris smirking during the Rock's never ending speech, earlier in the night. Little did she know that her date was envisioning ways in which he could use the folding chairs they all sat on—to inflict extreme bodily pain on her Father and Brother.

At first, Victoria attributed Chris' facial expression to whatever the Rock was spewing about. And, The Rock seemed quite pleased with himself until he looked down into the crowd and saw exactly WHO Jericho had come with. That had shut him up pretty damn quickly. It even put a smile on Victoria's face.

_If you think I'm falling for it—again…_ Since their arrival, Chris had tried, in numerous ways to goad Victoria into kissing him—again. Come to think about it, Victoria had caught him talking to a _particular_ camera-man before the broadcast started. Hell, he'd probably bribed the guy to point the camera in his direction. _Not like he hasn't done it before…_

Jericho stood before her, running his hands up and down her forearms. He pouted. _In the words of my good friend, Ron Simmons…DAMN!_ Blushing, Victoria smiled at him. "Get lost, Jericho."

"I'll miss you too!" He winked before sauntering over to the assembled camera "monkeys" (as he called them). He even wiggled his butt for extra dramatic effect.

Victoria snickered under her breath, rubbing her forehead. _Leave it to Jericho…he's just screwing with me!_ It was obvious—Chris knew that Victoria sure as hell wouldn't make any kind of pass at him in public—so he was having a grand ol' time playing mind games with her. Victoria smirked—to herself. Chris _wanted_ her. At first, it caught her off guard. Hell, if it had been anyone else BUT Chris? She would have planted a knee between his legs. But it WAS Chris, and if she were being honest? It was absolutely…_Shit! Did they just crank the heat up?_ Victoria fanned herself with her hand.

"I thought it was getting a bit warm in here." Shane smiled weakly.

_I'm going to rename you BUZZKILL._ Oh how the men in her life, who were genetically related to her, had the uncanny knack for making entrances at the exact right time. Victoria sighed, folding her arms over her chest.

"Would you care to take a bit of a walk with me? I could really use some air." Shane had his own puppy dog powers to work with—all though, Victoria would gladly have taken Chris' over his any day. Victoria eyed Shane skeptically, which only caused him to ratchet it up. "Please?" He held out his arm to her.

Reluctantly, Victoria took his arm. The last thing she wanted to do was cause a scene—especially when Chris was working. And, judging by the way Shane kept shooting him dirty looks, that's exactly what he was planning on doing. She allowed Shane to lead her far enough from the building to that they wouldn't be overheard, yet close enough to remain within eyesight.

Shane took a couple steps away from Victoria. He opened his mouth, but no words came forth. Running his hands though his hair in frustration, he paced a few steps before trying again. "Victoria—what the hell?" Shane threw his arms up, shaking his head confusedly.

Unsure of what her brother was subtly hinting at, Victoria shrugged. "Well…" she folded her arms across her chest. "I know this is hard for you to believe, Shane. But actually _do_ have friends. Chris is one of them.'

Shane looked dumbfounded. "Jericho? Please. I couldn't give a piss about Jericho."

Victoria glared at him. "Yet you were ready to kill the crazy basement fan boy living off of ho-ho's—"

Shane held his hand up. "Enough. No more stories, no more changing the subject. We are going to talk. Right now." Shane hadn't been this serious in his entire life.

"First of all" Victoria's hands were definitely perched on her hips. "Let's get one thing straight right now, shall we?"

"Linda…everything will be fine. I'm just going to sneak out there and make sure Shane and Victoria don't try to kill each other…ok?" Vince kissed his wife on the cheek before slipping out the door to see what his oldest and youngest were up to. From the look he had seen on Victoria's face as Shane lead her out of the building, he had a feeling it wasn't going to be good.

When he made it outdoors, he didn't have to go far before he found them. A potted tree provided the perfect ground over. He would step in, if and when he was needed. Victoria spoke first.

"I am NOT your godamn puppy. I don't take orders from _you_ or anyone else."

"Fine. Fine." Shane was angry. He was used to having people follow him blindly. "Then would you mind getting off your damn high horse for two seconds and telling me what your problem is?"

Vince grimaced behind the shrub as he saw his youngest roll her eyes. Even HE wasn't stupid enough to ask her _that_ question.

"You want to know what my problem is?" Shane nodded. "Fine. I'll tell you exactly what my goddamn problem is."

"It's about godamn time!" Shane threw his hands up.

"Shut the hell up, smartass." Victoria shot her brother a look which quickly shut him up. Victoria took a big breath. "Despite my better judgment…despite everything that has ever happened to me…I fell for it." Victoria looked absolutely disgusted. She shook her head. "As much as I love my nephews, Shane…I REFUSE to be your godamn glorified babysitter!" Victoria balled her fists at her side, she was starting to shake from all the pent up emotion. Shane took a step forward. "Stay the hell away from me or God help me I will SCREAM." Shane held his hands up and distanced himself from her.

"How…dare…you." Victoria spat the words out. "You pretend to play the part of the perfect Big Brother…and you use MY nephews to reel me in?"

Shane shook his head vehemently. "Bullshit. You know that's not true, Victoria. You _know_ me." Shane was sincerely wounded by Victoria's words.

"I _know_ you? I KNOW you?" Victoria couldn't help but to laugh. "Where the hell have you been my entire life? Ooooh that's right…you and Stephanie were too busy parading around with _Daddy._" Victoria snorted. It was taking everything within her power for her not to loose all semblance of self control.

"Is that what you think?" Shane asked honestly.

"I don't have to THINK it. I KNOW it." Victoria gritted her teeth to keep the tears from spilling out of her eyes. "Every single godamn day of my life I have been reminded of that…over and over and over…and you know what? It's NEVER going to change."

Shane shook his head. "You're wrong, Victoria. I don't know what Bret's told you…but there's another—"

"MY SIDE OF THE STORY. You're right! There is ANOTHER side! MY SIDE! GODDAMIT, all you people care about is yourselves! Where the hell were you, Oh Big Brother, when I needed you?" Shane was silent. Several tears had managed to escape Victoria's eyes. Memories flooded Victoria's mind like grains of sand on a beach. Birthdays, Christmases, her first school play—where she had to go with her friend's family because none of her own seemed to care. Watching the endless parade of classmates posing for family pictures at her high school graduation, only to be asked where her family was—over and over and over again. Victoria felt Shane's hand on her shoulder and jerked it away as if it were poison.

"Victoria…please…" Shane tried to plead with his younger sister.

Victoria shook her head. "I wished I would have just died…"

"Don't you dare. Don't you fucking say that." Shane was beyond pissed off at that remark.

"Because you care? "

"As a matter of fact, I do care."

Victoria rolled her eyes. "You care so much that you rushed to be with me—" Victoria swallowed hard. The words sent razors through her veins, but it had to be said. "You care so much that you rushed to be with me….when I was …" She pursed her lips together—but it didn't help from keeping the tears back. "I watched the only person who ever cared about whether I LIVE or DIE….I watched him DIE in front of my eyes…and where were you? Where were ANY of you?" Victoria wiped the back of her had across her face in a furious motion. "But you know what? That's FINE. That's absolutely Fine. I'm sick of it! I'm sick of you all! The Harts want to act like I'm a piece of trash…they don't want to recognize me. And God forbid that one of you McMahons get off your ass and actually recognize my existence, instead of joking about it…or trying to make it into a half-assed "Leprechaun" storyline…or better yet, flat out denying it all together…" Victoria held her hands up. "You can all go straight to hell as far as I'm concerned."

Victoria nearly jumped at the slight touch on her elbow. "C'mon Bunny…" Victoria slowly turned her head and was somewhat relived that Chris was there to rescue her—yet, again. "I'm going to take you home…it's not worth it…" He kissed Victoria's forehead before leading her away from Shane as quickly as he could without raising too much suspicion.


	22. Chapter 20

_Finally!_ Victoria's quest for an unoccupied monitor had been fruitful. Quickly, she drug a chair over to it—lest her spot be stolen away. This is Wrestlemania…_The Showcase of the Immortals_. What everyone in the industry worked for—for some, it was the culmination of a year's hard work, for others—the goal to aspire to, and yet—for a select few, it would ultimately mark the end of life-long dream. For Victoria, it was a combination of everything—tainted by the bittersweet remembrance of those no longer present to participate in the festivities, and those who were, while their hearts were clearly not.

Though she'd never verbalize the words, Victoria was thankful that Flair's retirement match just happened to be today. With all of the added hustle and bustle on top of the additional Wrestlemania craziness, Flair had unwittingly caused the focus to deflect off of the presumed newest addition to the McMahon household. However, knowing it was only temporary; Victoria welcomed the reprieve, and tried to use it to decompress. Sighing, she leaned on a nearby table and propped her head on her arm.

The horrific confrontation with Shane at the Hall of Fame ceremony (the night before) had taken quite a deal out of her. In some small way the fact that she had actually been able to say exactly what she was/is and had been feeling, was a relief. However, Victoria wasn't exactly sure of the lasting effects her sentiments had—if any. Shane hadn't said much last night. Of course, Christopher had managed to show up at the most opportune time and rescue her, but even before that, Shane said very little. He had, of course, called and left messages for her at the hotel, in addition to the voicemails he left on her phone.

Victoria glanced at the screen of the chirping phone before muting it and shoving it in her jacket pocket. _Let him stew. I don't give a shit._ So far, Victoria had successfully managed to not run into and/or talk to a single member of the McMahon family. She was back in her _own_ hotel room, and had even called for her _own_ car to bring her to the arena. Victoria smiled weakly. It hadn't been an easy feat, but she was happy with her progress—however long lived it may be. Besides, _they_ were far, far, far too busy to start screwing with her, right?

"You know—you could at least _try_ to look like you want to be here. It is your _first_ Wrestlemania and all…" Shawn eyed Victoria as he pulled over a chair to sit besides her.

Not bothering to look away from the monitor, Victoria smiled sarcastically.

"Yeah. Yeah. You know what, Hunter?" Shawn had adapted his patented playful tone.

Victoria groaned. _So much for avoiding all manner of McMahons._Trips smirked as he sat down on the opposite side of his sister-in-law. "I don't think she's happy to see me…" Trips complained loudly in a whisper that was clearly intended to be anything but.

"I'm not happy to see you, and I HAVE to work with you! I can't imagine what it must actually be like to be _related_ to you." Shawn shuddered melodramatically. "But that's besides the point—"

"You? Have a point?" HHH laughed sarcastically. After several moments, noting that Victoria was staring at the monitor with all the enthusiasm as if she were watching paint dry, he exchanged a look with Shawn, who simply shrugged. Suddenly, an idea struck. If for nothing else, one thing _always_ managed to light the fire under a McMahon. HHH assumed the same position that Victoria was sitting in. However, not being able to hunker down on a table, HHH opted to sit on his chair backwards.

Shawn rolled his eyes. "Don't I always have a point, Hunter? Tell him I have a point, sweetie…." Shawn shook Victoria's shoulder.

"Point…he has one." Victoria's manner of speaking was very monotone and dull.

HHH sighed dramatically. "Speaking of which—I can't believe Vince was such an asshole earlier, Shawn. I mean—I go into his office to discuss MY match, and he just screams at me to "get out"! And he's the one who called me in there!!"

Shawn finally caught on. "Oh I know! He's been a royal pain in the ass all day! You know our friend Stan?"

"Stannnnn….Stan? Mr. Controversy?" Hunter stroked his beard.

"The very one. Vince whacked him upside the head with his office door! Poor guy ended up in the hospital…." Shawn shook his head sympathetically while HHH commiserated.

"Thinly veiled attempts to lure me into Daddy bashing will not work." Victoria piped up in the same, dull, monotonous tone of voice.

"_Daddy?_" Shawn mouthed behind Victoria's back, happily surprised. HHH shot him a grin before giving him the thumbs-up. "Wha—what about thinly veiled attempts at Bret Hart bashing?" Shawn asked innocently.

Victoria pondered for a moment. "Too much material. I don't have the energy." Victoria shrugged half heartedly.

Shawn scratched his head and looked to HHH for answers. "You know, Vicky" HHH was alarmed by the look his partner-in-crime was throwing his way.

"Do I look like a two-bit hoe that's screwing one of my dead husband's co-workers?" Victoria's attention was still fixed on the monitor.

Shawn put his hand over his mouth—in an attempt to maintain a straight face.

"And here I thought you liked _another_ cocky, self-absorbed, Canadian" HHH chided, knowing _that_ would get a rise out of Victoria. He shot Shawn a confident look who was vehemently shaking his head "NO" behind his Goddaughter's back.

Shawn couldn't resist the chance he had been given—against his better judgment. He held up his hand as if he were a schoolboy answering his teacher's question. "You forgot something!!"

HHH did a double take. "I did?"

Shawn nodded enthusiastically, almost bouncing in his seat. "He's _blond_ tooo…."

"Psh. You don't know what the hell you're talking about." Victoria made a disgusted face at the television screen.

"Oh no, no. Shawn has a point there _Sis_." HHH smirked at the glare he was confronted with. "I think he does actually have _blond_ hair." He stroked his chin thoughtfully.

"…but whether or not it comes from a bottle is under debate." Shawn muttered under his breath. Snickers escaped from both wrestlers.

Victoria groaned—audibly. "Not that it actually _is_ any of you alls business…but there is absolutely between—"

"Ohhh…I think we both know that. Don't we, Shawn?"

Victoria noted that her brother-in-law had the uncanny ability to magically become dead-pan and serious. Apparently he could do this at will.

"Pictures _are _worth a thousand words, Hunter…" Of course Shawn wouldn't ride in on his white horse and save the day. It was _only_ Victoria. Victoria eyed her Godfather, noting the mischievous twinkle in his eye. Nope. No help there. "I was actually beginning to think they'd managed to glue themselves together."

"Look. Chris and I are _friends_. That's IT." Victoria protested. "You know…like you two? Without all the gratuitous butt slapping and penis jokes?"

Shawn pondered the statement, looking to HHH—who was also letting the words sink in. "Nope…don't follow you." He shook his head rather innocently.

"That's actually quite interesting." HHH stroked his chin. "Cause I sure as hell could have sworn that I caught you making out with that same cocky, self-absorbed, Canadian on the way TO the party last night…"

Victoria glared at the television, heat rising to her cheeks. "I know you're jealous Paul, but you're not my type." Shawn snickered. "And you? That's just naaaaasty, Uncle Shawn."

It was HHH's turn to smirk at the blow that his partner in crime had been dealt. "Yeah well…I did notice that I wasn't the one holding your attention, during _my _speech last night." HHH snickered.

"You wanna sleep on the couch for the rest of your life, Paul?"

Paul swallowed hard. He'd already been bunking on the couch. The last thing he needed was for Stephanie to get any more ammunition.

Shawn snickered. "So…" He put a fatherly arm around Victoria's shoulders, much to her chagrin. "You want to fill me in on exactly what this _thing_ is between you and the Ayatollah or whatever the hell he's calling himself this week? I won't tell annnyone. I promise!" Shawn Michaels _actually_ crossed his own heart.

Victoria's eyebrow shot straight up. She glared at Shawn out of the corner of her eye. "No. No nothing. No _thing._ Nada. Zip. Zilch. The end."

"So I guess it doesn't matter that _he_ was looking for you earlier, huh?" HHH piped in, innocently.

Victoria's head whipped around to HHH. "And you didn't TELL me?"

"I guess that answers our question, doesn't it, Shawn?" HHH and Shawn grinned at each other.

Victoria glared a hole straight through the forehead of "The Game". HHH held his hands up in defeat. "I—I think I'll just go grab a drink from catering. I'll catch you later, Shawn…" He opened his mouth to shoot yet another jab at his young sister-in-law, but quickly abandoned the thought.

Shawn now sat on his own chair backwards, his arms resting on the back of the chair. He was thankful that his friend had enough sense to leave voluntarily. No way would he ever be able to have any sort of productive conversation with his Goddaughter with anyone else around. "You want to tell me what's going on?" Shawn questioned his Goddaughter with a serious sort of quietness befitting the situation.

Victoria glanced at him, ready to deny the plea without batting an eyelash, but the look of extreme concern spread across his face gave her occasion to reconsider. "I'm _tired_, Uncle Shawn…_I'm tired._" The weight of an entire world coming to bear down on her shoulders, Victoria studied the cement floor. It was an odd sensation—the muscles in her eyes were twitching—but no tears fell down her cheeks. For the first time in her life, Victoria was becoming familiar with how it felt to be empty inside—and it frightened her.

Not knowing what else to do, Shawn wrapped his arms around the young woman. "I know you are sweetie." He squeezed her again before returning to his previous position. He smoothed her hair, giving her a weak smile. The image of the young woman who looked back at him sent a knife straight through his heart. Victoria truly looked like she was running on empty. The spark he had seen in her eyes, while he watched her growing up was all but gone. For the first time in her life, she had really given up, and the almighty Shawn Michaels had ran out of answers.

Victoria opened her mouth, but shut it after several seconds, resorting to shaking her head instead.

"Have you…_tried_ to talk to him?" Half-asking, half-urging, Shawn proceeded with extreme caution. Victoria shook her head mournfully. "Well…Sweetheart…don't you think you should? I mean…before you give up on him completely?"

Victoria rubbed her eyes. "I just—can't. Every time I look into that man's eyes…there's nothing there. It's just cold…and just…" Despite the heat of a late-afternoon in Florida, Victoria felt a chill come over her entire body.

"Blank, soulless, like looking into the eyes of the devil himself?"

_Damn you to hell, Paul._ Victoria cursed her brother-in-law, before returning her attention to the screen in front of her. Shane had found her, but that didn't mean she had to respond to him.

"Well actually, I was kinda thinking along the lines of…he has eyes like a beady, little rat." Shane and Michaels had a short laugh over that quip. Victoria shot her Uncle Shawn a death glare out of the corner of her eye. Shawn fidgeted in his seat nervously before getting up. "I ah….I hear Hunter calling me…I'll just…go and see what he needs." He smiled brightly before making a quick exit.

_And you wonder why I never actually talk to you, Uncle Shawn._ Victoria feigned extreme interest in what was happening on the screen in front of her—anything that would help her ignore the presence of her Big Brother.

"I know what you're thinking." Shane assumed the same sort of interest in the monitor that his Sister showed.

"Oh…are you still here?"

Shane couldn't help but to smile. "I probably deserve that, so I'll let it slide—just this one time."

"Don't you have people to boss around?"

Shane reached over and turned the monitor off. "Clever, Sis. But I'm not going to let you change the subject." He shook his head. "Now see…I thought that maybe…just _maybe_ the reason my little Sister wasn't returning my calls last night…was because she had gone to bed early…to rest up for today!"

Victoria smiled sarcastically at Shane.

"But seeing as how you apparently haven't gotten your beauty sleep…"

"Don't go there, Shane." Victoria hissed.

"There's my Little Sister…" Shane beamed. "And I did—just go there, by the way." Shane was thankful to finally get some sort of reaction out of Victoria.

"And your paisley shirts—did go straight in, the garbage." Victoria managed a perfect imitation of her Big Brother down to the cadence of his speech. She smirked, seeing that her jab had been fruitful.

Shane smiled, nodding his head. "And you do—look like Carlito, when you first wake up in the morning." Mocking the exasperated look on his Baby Sister's face, Shane made loud noises as if he had just burnt his hand on a stove.

"Oh…and by the way? It was your little _boyfriend_ who told me where you were…" Shane resumed his serious tone of voice. "I guess that means he's going to be sleeping on the couch too, right?"

Victoria looked at Shane incredulously. "First of all, I don't know who the hell you're talking about—"

"Yeah—right." Shane snickered.

"I don't, Shane. And second, even if I do…how the hell would I know about any guy's sleeping arrangements…?"

"Uh-huh. So what I came here to talk to you about—"Shane completely ignored his sister's protests. He knew better. "You know…I'm not the one who's in deep shit right now because she ducked out of the family pictures last night…" Shane held up his arms.

"Psh. You've _got _to be kidding me. I don't know what you're trying to pull, but I'm not buying it Shane…I'm really, really not…"

"I'm not trying to pull anything!" Shane protested a little louder than he wanted to. "You're the one who wanted to be a part of this family." Shane held his hands up, only to note that Victoria was still shaking her head at him. "You'd best get your act together, Vicky."

"My _act_?" Victoria folded her arms over her chest.

"You heard me." Shane looked her directly in the eye. "You also _know_ what the hell I'm talking about." Victoria snorted and tried to get up, only to find that a strong hand was holding her still. "This whole…writing letters and disappearing…or blowing up and disappearing—it may have worked with those screwballs on the other side of your family…but this is _not_ how things work in the _McMahon_ family."

_Tell me something I don't know Shane._ "Oh I'm _well_ aware of that, Shane."

"No. What you're _aware_ of is what happens on screen—"

Victoria cut him off. "Once again, something I'm very well aware of."

Shane shook his head in disgust. "Look. I'm not going to try to patronize you and tell you that storylines and real-life never intermix. I know you know better than that."

Victoria couldn't help but to concede that point to her Brother. She nodded slightly.

"Of course" Shane ran his hand through his head, trying to stall for time. "Look. I'm not _happy_ about what you had to say to me, last night. But I am happy that you did it." Shane spotted the softened look in Victoria's eyes. He only prayed he wouldn't make a fool out of himself this time. "I worry about you, Victoria. I have…longer than you'll ever know."

Victoria shook her head. "I'm fine. Always am. Always will be."

"No. You're not fine, Victoria." Shane looked at her seriously. He swallowed hard. "I wish—" Shane's voice was on the verge of cracking. "If I had known—had any clue-- I would have taken you myself."

Shane's eyes started to water. Instinctively, Victoria reached over and squeezed his hand. "It's not—"

"NO." He knew he was as much to blame as anyone else. "I could have…I _should_ have done something, Victoria. And I really…I really want to be your Brother…" He looked at her, searching her eyes for some hint of an answer.

"You are Shane. You are."

"If you _really_ mean that…promise me something?"

Victoria eyed him quizzically, causing Shane to smile weakly. "No…it's not about the _Shane O Mac_ jerseys you had stowed away…" Victoria gasped, the heat instantly pooling on her cheeks. Shane smiled inwardly. _Of course my Baby Sister loves me. I'm Shane O'Mac, damnit!_ "You could have just asked me, you know." Shane whispered, giving Victoria just enough time to recover. "Anyways." He cleared his throat, this time reaching for HER hand. "The next time…you need to talk to someone—I don't care what I'm doing…kick, yell, scream, throw things—preferably not _at_ me…" Shane smiled at the tiny giggle he heard. "But just talk to me? Or if you can't…talk to Stephanie…or Shawn…or Mom?"

Victoria looked just a tiny bit confused. Was Shane leaving out a key somebody on purpose?

"Or…you know…if you're feeling exceptionally…" Shane looked around, searching for the right word. Shane scratched his jaw thoughtfully. He finally gave up. "…you could always try talking to _him_, too. You might have to hit him over the head a couple of times with a steel chair…but eventually, Dad _will_ listen." _Especially when you start dropping names like Ted Turner, Bret Hart and Eric Bischoff. _"The point _is_—no matter what's going on, you will _always _have someone right there with you….ok?"

Victoria nodded gravely. So what if the little talk had come off a bit too—well, Shane must have stayed up late watching re runs of "The Cosby Show". For some strange reason, Victoria was starting to feel like he was being honest with her. And for once, it helped.

"Good. Good." Shane smoothed her hair. "Can I--" He looked at her apprehensively.

Victoria eyed him—once again.

"I don't suppose you'd want to _hug_ me, or anything" Shane shrugged, pouting the entire way.

_Oh man. You sure as hell know how to work it, don't you?_ Normally, Victoria would have dismissed such a gesture. But between everything she had just witnessed, and the completely beaten down person that sat before her, her heart was genuinely torn. Victoria sighed. _What the hell._ Cautiously, she wrapped her arms around her brother. She even kissed him on his cheek—for good measure.

"God, don't scare me like that ever again, Baby Sis…" Shane whispered the same sentiment over and over, his arms wrapping increasingly tighter around her shoulders.

Victoria rested her head on her Big Brother's shoulder, enjoying the feeling of being cared for.

"I just LOVE family reunions! It just—" Jericho swaggered towards them. "It's just so damn touching!" With a flourish, he pulled a handkerchief out of his pocket and blew his nose—loudly.

"Do you MIND, Jericho?" Shane was more than a little annoyed at the disturbance, especially when he was about to win "Brother of the Year".

"If he blows any harder, his _mind_ will be coming out of his nose." Victoria muttered under her breath, burying her head into her brother's shoulder.

"You actually think there's something up there?" Shane muttered back, during one of Jericho's hysterically melodramatic sobbing fits.

"I LOVE YOU ALL!!" Jericho wrapped his arms around Shane and Victoria both, attempting to butt his way in to the moment.

"EWWWWW GOD!" Victoria yelped as Chris planted a rather sloppy kiss on Victoria's lips—at least, that's what he was aiming for. At the very last second, Victoria had been able to turn her head so that Chris lips met the corner of her mouth.

Chris smirked. His eyes met Shane's. An extremely tense showdown ensued. Victoria wriggled out of both men's grasp and pushed her chair back. Shane and Chris turned their attention to her. "Don't mind me. I'd really like to see you try this one, Chris…" She folded her arms over her chest, waiting for the ball to drop, or, in this case, the first fist to fly.

"Well…that is a bit…." Chris rubbed his chin. "…that's a bit _kinky_, even for you, Bunny. But…if that's…"

Shane shot up from his chair, pushing Jericho back so that he was at _least_ an arm's length away. "Don't you even fucking try it, Jericho!"

Victoria stifled a giggle. She hadn't had a chance to see Shane get upset—seriously upset. And it was really quite funny.

Chris clamped his hands over Victoria's ears. "Watch your MOUTH! There are children here!!"

"And I'm looking at him!" Victoria slapped at Chris' arms until he took his hands away.

"See? Now look what you've done!" Jericho whacked Shane upside the head.

Victoria gasped. "YOU DON'T GET TO DO THAT!" She jumped up, quickly going to her bewildered brother's aide.

"Do what?" Jericho shrugged. "I didn't do anything. I don't know what you're talking about." Suddenly, the state of his manicure had taken on an entirely new place of importance. "Damn…I should ask Edge where he gets his nails done…"

Victoria reached over and whacked Chris upside the head—hard.

"Damnit, Bunny!" Chris rubbed the back of his head. "What the hell?"

Victoria smiled sweetly. "You can not hit _my brother Shane_."

Chris snickered uncontrollably. "_My brother, Shane? My BROTHER, Shane? MY BROTHER, SHANE?_"

"YES. HER BROTHER, SHANE!" Shane was convinced that Jericho had begun stalking him. Ever since they arrived in Florida, it seemed as though Jericho just happened to pop up at the most opportune times.

Chris wiped the tears from his eyes. It was too good to be true. "My God you've been spending way too much time with _your sister, Stephanie_." Jericho continued to laugh at himself.

"You know what, Jericho? I think you should go take a nice long walk off a very short bridge." Shane didn't have time for Jericho's elementary antics.

Victoria put her arm around Shane. "Don't worry about it; I know how to get rid of him." She winked. Victoria went to stand directly in front of Jericho. She waited. Her presence alone should have been more than enough to secure his full and complete attention. Judging from the fact that he was doubled over on the floor laughing—it wasn't. Resorting to her back of time-honored and proven tricks, she placed her hands on her hips and began to tap her foot—irritated. "HEY!" Victoria yelled out, trying to get Chris' attention.

Even Shane couldn't help but to wince at the tone of Victoria's voice. Chris looked up at him, holding his ears. "And to think—she could do that _before_ she ever met the other one…"

Shane shuddered. One Stephanie was more than he could handle.

Victoria growled. Reaching in front of her, she slapped Chris upside the head, yet again. Shane snickered at Chris who was, once again, massaging the back of his head. Victoria turned her attention to her Big Brother, slapping him upside the head, just as she had done Chris. It was now Chris' turn to snicker at this sudden turn of luck. "Hurts…doesn't it, Shane O'Mac?"

Shane glared at Chris. No one upstaged Shane O'Mac. Especially not his _Baby Sister_. He cleared his throat. "I suppose for a performer of your particular caliber it would hurt." _If Steph teaches her to bitchslap, we're all in deep shit._

The two men proceeded to boost their own egos by throwing around a few choice words. "You know what I think?" Victoria stepped in between the two, clearly having had more than her fill of Shane O'Mac vs. Y2J.

"You want me to kiss you again?" Jericho made obnoxious kissy sounds, making his way towards Victoria.

Victoria was horrified. "I think that when _my Daddy_ fires your ass, I'm going to have a party!" Victoria shoved Chris back before taking cover behind Shane—much to the later man's amusement.

"Where, oh WHERE have I heard this before?" Jericho groaned melodramatically, to no one in particular. "Haven't we already had this discussion Princes…err…I mean Steph….err…I mean….Bunny?" Jericho grinned at a very flustered Victoria McMahon. "Why don't you just save yourself the trouble….because we both know you're never going to tell _your Daddy_ anything….and just…go ahead and kiss me? Hmmm? One little kiss?"

_Oh Chris, don't. Pleasssse, don't._ Shane prayed, however late he was catching onto Jericho's little scheme.

"Really? Is that what you think?"

"Duuuuh…how many times have you used that particular threat?" Jericho taunted, trying to see just how far he could push Victoria.

Victoria nodded. "Fine. Have it your way." Quickly, she turned on her heel and headed straight towards the office of the devil himself.

"Holy Shit, I didn't actually think she'd do it…." Chris snickered as he and Shane tried their damndest to keep up with Victoria.

Victoria turned to Chris one last time before knocking on the door to Vince McMahon's office. "Any last words, Christopher?"

Jericho and Shane exchanged glances before returning their attention to Victoria. Both men stood behind her, unable to say or do anything. White as sheets, they could not believe what they were witnessing.

Before she lost the nerve, Victoria pounded her fist into the door several times.

"COME IN, DAMNIT! I DON'T HAVE ALL DAY!"

Victoria took a quick breath before inching her way into the office. _What exactly was the point of this entire….?_

Vince sat bent over a desk—littered with papers. "GODDAMNIT! WHERE IS THE REVISED SCRIPT?! YOU'D…better…" Vince looked up, ready to fire yet another screwball staffer, only to be surprised by who he saw standing in front of him.

Victoria winced, backing away from him—just a bit.

"Oh…it's….you…" His voice softened. "I didn't…is something wrong?" Vince was completely dumbfounded.

"I ah um…." Victoria ran her fingers through her hair—tucking it safely behind her ears. She caught Jericho's stifled snickers. That was all it took to remind her of her purpose. "That man" She pointed at Jericho. "That man—has been _stalking_ me!" Victoria sniffed.

Vince sat back in his chair. "He's been….what?" Truth be told, he was still very much in shock that his daughter was speaking to him.

Jericho rolled his eyes. "Once again, you're—"

Vince eyed Jericho. "If I were you, I'd keep my mouth shut."

Victoria batted her eyes at Jericho, behind Vince's back.

Vince turned his attention back towards Victoria. "Now…what exactly is your problem with Chris?"

Victoria continued her sniffling routine, as if she were about to burst out into tears at the drop of a hat. "He…" Victoria's eyes began to water, more from the excess sniffling than anything else.

Concerned that his youngest child was about to go into hysterics in _his_ office and that somehow he would be blamed, Vince got up and let Victoria over to the couch.

"I can not fucking believe…" Chris threw up his hands

"You've got to be—" Shane retorted, not even aware that Chris was speaking.

Vince shot both men a death glare that wiped the smirks off both their faces. "Go ahead. They're not going to _say_ anything else."

"He….he pulled my hair!"

Chris was genuinely confused. "I…pulled your hair? When have I _ever_ pulled your hair?! Pulled your chain…perhaps…well…yeah…but I never pulled your _hair! _You pulled—"

Vince was getting pissed. "Do _I_ need to pull your chain?" Chris had no choice but to shake his head "No". He didn't want to give the boss any ideas.

"You did too! You pulled my hair! When I was SEVEN!" Victoria covered her eyes with her hands and began to "sob".

Chris stood there, racking his brain as if his life depended on it. He simply could not remember pulling Victoria's hair—all though, he smirked to himself, he probably did commit the crime.

"You're just making shit up--" Chris moaned. Vince shot him yet another look. Chris knew he ought to quit while he was still ahead.

Victoria looked at Chris as if he had just slapped her across the face. Her lips parted slightly, but no words came out. Frustrated beyond belief, she sighed, before hugging herself.

Chris ran his hand through his hair. "Victoria—look"

Vince held his hand up. "I think we've heard enough—from _both_ of you." He motioned for Chris and Shane to leave.

Shane scratched his head. _What the hell did I do? Why is he kicking me out too?_

Chris shook his head before exiting the office while Shane continued standing in the same position—somewhat shell-shocked.

"Don't let him get under your skin, Vicky—you know how he is." Shane sat down on the other side of his sister, pinning her in-between Vince and himself.

Vince raised an eyebrow. _Why are you still here?_ He eyed his son. God help him, but sometimes Shane could not take a hint.

Victoria wrinkled her nose at Shane.

"What? What did I do?" Shane held up his hands in self-defense. Judging by the looks on both his father and sister's faces, he was about to be strangled. "Vicky, come on! You liked me two seconds ago."

Victoria cut her father a glance out of the corner of her eye.

"Shane…don't you have something better to do?" Vince was trying to be nice about the entire situation. Shane had obviously been sucked into the entire scene. He just, Vince reasoned, needed a little help extricating himself.

Shane got up and walked towards the door—huffing and muttering to himself even after he had exited the makeshift office.

Several seconds elapsed before father or daughter dared to make a sound. Finally, Vince cleared his throat. "So…"

Victoria nodded her head, focusing her attention entirely on her fingernails—something that had become customary as of late. What exactly was she supposed to be saying to this man? Especially since this was only the second time she had spoken to him, in her entire life? "Hmm?" She looked over at Vince, cautiously.

Vince swallowed hard and adjusted his tie. "You know—" He motioned towards the door. "You know Irvine?" He looked anxiously at his youngest child.

Victoria rubbed her head. "Excuse me?" No way. There was absolutely no way that this was happening. _I am SO not having this discussion with you—father or not._

Vince scratched his neck nervously. "Jericho. You two seem to….be getting along pretty well lately." Vince shrugged innocently.

Victoria groaned. "Ok. You want to know about my relationship with Chris?" She folded her arms across her chest.

Vince swallowed even harder. The only _relationship_ HIS baby girl needed to be contemplating was the one she shared with HIM, not with some other man who would only steal her away—again. "I was just—"

Victoria cut Vince off, standing up from the couch. "Chris is—he's like…" Victoria paused, searching for the right words. "You know the type of person…no…that's not right." She scratched her chin. "Ok. I'll put it to you this way." She motioned towards the door. "Chris Jericho, the Ayatollah of Rock and whatever…the King of Bling Bling….the all powerful _Fuzzy_—"

Vince was a bit bewildered. "Don't you mean, Fozzy?"

Victoria rolled her eyes. "As I said, _Fuzzzzzy_, and, my personal favorite, BAM-BAM."

The smirk on her face reminded Vince of himself. _No wonder people think I'm scary._

"He's….he's like an _infection_ that you just can not get rid of. You just…you try to kill it with different antibiotics…and he's—" Victoria was on the verge of sneering at Vince. "…he's Matt Hardy. HE WILL NOT DIE!" She threw her hands up triumphantly before making her own exit—leaving her father sitting on the couch, alone, trying to make sense out of what had just occurred.


End file.
